The Sum of Our Choices
by Juubi-K
Summary: The Black Rebellion has succeeded, and Japan is free. Lelouch Lamperouge thought being Zero the resistance leader was tough. Now, as Zero the statesman, he must rebuild Japan, keep the EU in the war, and keep his personal life under control. Retconned
1. The Banality of Glory

**The Sum of Our Choices**

**A Code Geass fanfiction by Juubi Karakuchi**

**Chapter One: The Banality of Glory**

_On August 10, 2010 ATB, the Holy Empire of Britannia launched a full-scale invasion of the sovereign nation of Japan. The war was violent but brief, culminating in the unconditional surrender of Japan. The country became a dominion of the Empire, dubbed 'Area 11', in so doing stripped of its dignity and its very identity. _

_Though the Japanese armed forces were relatively strong, the economy vibrant and with a highly advanced technological base, the country was nonetheless without allies, having alienated her neighbours with mercantilist economic policies, driving them into the arms of the Chinese Federation. To the rest of the world, Japan was a self-obsessed, vindictive, and unfriendly little country, drunk with the economic power afforded by the mineral Sakuradite. _

_Vital to the creation of superconductors and clean-energy technologies, Sakuradite was both a blessing and a curse to Japan, within the borders of which lay 70% of the world's supply. When Britannia invaded and took control of this treasure, it was ostensibly to properly regulate the extraction and distribution of Sakuradite to the world. Britannia, its propagandists claimed, was the one true superpower, the only nation with the ability and the right to do so. But there were many who disagreed. _

_The European Ultra-Union, or EU, found itself under attack even as Britannian warships sailed into Japanese waters. A supra-national economic union encompassing Europe, Russia and Africa, the EU was Britannia's most persistent and most hated enemy. Though born of the same stock, these two powers had embraced radically different political, economic, and social ideologies, becoming as mutually incomprehensible as Rome and Persia. For seven years they refought their old conflict, leaving the world devastated in their wake. _

_But it was in that broken and despised nation, once called Japan, that the balance would shift. From among the downtrodden 'Elevens', rose a rebel leader of incredible skill and daring. The self-styled 'Zero', sought to liberate Japan and bring down the Britannian Empire. Behind him was a new elite force sworn to fight injustice and protect the helpless. They were the Order of the Black Knights. _

_Thus in the year 2017 ATB, after seven long years of occupation and mistreatment, the nation of Japan was liberated in a brief but gruesome bout of violence known ever afterwards as the Black Rebellion. This event would prove critical in the conflict that engulfed the world at that time. Japan had been not only a critical economic resource, but a fortress protecting Britannia's flank from potential Chinese interference. The fall of this most vital colony shattered the already-tarnished myth of Britannian invincibility. It gave hope to the embattled peoples of the EU, who had endured terrible sacrifice to hold the Imperial forces back in Russia and Africa. It gave hope to the 'numbers', the oppressed subject races of the Empire, making what had seemed an impossible dream a reality. _

_Now it is the year 2018 ATB. Japan has been free for less than a year, but the provisional government established by Zero and his Black Knights is faced with many challenges. It faces threats from within and without, along with the most painful of truths; that Japan's freedom and prosperity is ultimately dependent on the goodwill and aspirations of the Great Powers. _

_For Zero, this is simply not acceptable. _

_For Zero has other plans. _

_**Now**_

_**Pendragon, Capital of the Holy Empire of Britannia, June 22nd 2018 ATB**_

The lights were turned down low, casting long shadows. Any observer would have thought the chamber empty, populated only by statues, lifeless and unmoving.

The door opened with a low clunk, allowing a cloaked figure to enter. Along the rich carpet it moved with silent tread, between the lines of tall pillars, a single white-uniformed statue standing in front of each one. The figure stopped a few metres from the end of the chamber, where there stood another statue, back to the door, as rigid and unmoving as any of the others. The figure stepped into the light, dropping to one knee, the cloak sliding around him, hiding his form.

"I will speak with Prince Faramond alone," said the statue. "Guards, leave us." The remaining statues brought their ceremonial rifles to their shoulders, turned on their heels, and marched out, snapping and cracking like iron puppets. Within a few moments they were gone.

"Rise, grandson." Charles di Britannia, ninety-sixth Emperor of the Holy Empire of Britannia, spoke in a low growl. "Come and stand next to me." His grandson did as he was bidden. He stood next to his Emperor, but a few paces away as protocol dictated, his cowled head lowered, hands clasped in front like a monk.

"You have examined the documents I sent you?" The Emperor did not speak directly to his grandson, but at the wall in front of him. It was decorated with an elaborate frieze, brought back by his late son Clovis from one of his archaeological digs many years earlier.

"I have, my Emperor." The boy's voice croaked from lack of use.

"And what is your conclusion?"

"The _Dark Knight _stealth fighter is a flawed concept, my Emperor. It is overly expensive, and its stealth features are inadequate in the face of present technology."

"Really?" Charles humoured his grandson. "Considerable amounts of money have been spent in its development. Are you really telling me that it was for nothing?"

"According to the data you provided me with, my Emperor," Faramond fought down his nerves, "the _Dark Knight_'s performance is little better than the _White Knight_. Also, the stealth features do not conceal it from the EU's latest radars."

"Strange that the developers did not take such a circumstance into account." The Emperor was enjoying the exchange. He found such analysis to be dull and unreliable, but it was a useful way of testing his grandson.

"It…it would not be right for me to comment, my Emperor." Faramond lowered his head in embarrassment. The Emperor was a figure of awe and terror to Faramond. Though aging, he was tall and powerfully built, dressed in a blue coat and white breeches, a mane of white hair fashioned into a series of long rolls. It made him look like a glorified magistrate, one with a predilection for the black silk handkerchief. His face was harsh, his eyes narrow and hard. Here was a man who had survived many decades on a throne his own children might kill him for, and it would not have offended him much.

"It's all right, Faramond." The Emperor's grandson shivered at the child's voice from the nearby shadows. "You can say it out loud. Your grandfather doesn't like arms contractors taking his money."

"Now now, VV," Charles admonished, as his mysterious companion stepped into the light. Blond hair cascaded around his shoulders and down his back. His eyes were large and disconcerting to look at. "Don't frighten him."

"He's not frightened of me, Charles," VV retorted, stopping at the boy's shoulder. "He is my precious grand-nephew." He leaned forward and kissed Faramond on the cheek, making him shiver even more.

"Your conclusion, Faramond," the Emperor went on, "is the same as my own. I thought this would be a good test of your ability to think."

"Thank you, my Lord Emperor."

"I have decided that you shall accompany your uncle Schniezel on his next diplomatic venture." The Emperor half-turned to regard his grandson. "Your task will be to make sure your uncle does not embarrass himself as he did in China."

"If…if your Majesty wishes it so." Faramond tried and failed to conceal his dismay.

"I know you wish to return to your solitude," Charles offered his nephew a thin smile. "But it will be good for you."

"He should have a title," VV commented. "_Strategos, _perhaps?"

"That sounds about right," the Emperor returned his attention to the frieze. "You may go, grandson. You will leave to join your uncle tomorrow morning. He is looking forward to seeing you."

"As you command, your Imperial Majesty." Faramond bowed low and backed away in the direction he had come. In a masterpiece of courtly manners, he somehow reached the door without stumbling.

"Is this such a good idea, Charles?" VV wondered aloud as the door clunked shut. "He's been in seclusion for so many years. Can he handle the real world?"

"I should think so," the Emperor's smile widened. "He's cleverer than his father by half, and Schniezel will take good care of him."

"Poor Odysseus," VV shook his head in apparent sympathy. "You never did have much use for him, did you?"

"I found a use for him," Charles retorted. "But now she's with Zero."

"Tian-Shi is about Faramond's age," VV mused. "Were you planning a _Tristan and Isoulde_ scenario, Charles?"

"You have a dirty mind, big brother." Charles focussed on the frieze, gazing long at the central image. It looked like the spread wings of a bird. He knew it well.

"Ragnarok approaches, Charles," VV whispered. "The legend draws to its conclusion."

"_Memento mori, _brother."

_**

* * *

**__**Tokyo, Capital of Free Japan, June 22nd 2018 ATB**_

Deep inside the Headquarters of the Order of the Black Knights, a meeting was taking place. The vast structure had once been the centre of the Britannian occupation. Now, with the Imperial flag painted over and replaced with the sword-and-spread-wings emblem of the Black Knights, it served as the centre of government for the newly-liberated nation, and the headquarters for the force that had liberated it.

The bright and airy conference chamber was still decorated as it had been before the rebellion. It still contained the long horseshoe table, lined with high-backed chairs. But it was not the Imperial overlords of a conquered nation who sat there.

"So," Zero laid down the dossier. "Schniezel has done it again."

"So it would appear," agreed Diethard Ried, the Black Knights Chief of Intelligence. "The negotiations with the Central Hemicycle should begin in Brussels in one week, and we expect them to take at least a month, maybe two. They are to discuss a negotiated end to the conflict. In other words, the EU's unconditional surrender."

"With Schniezel, I doubt it would be unconditional," Zero replied. "As with China, he's probably bought off the governments in some fashion."

"He couldn't beat the EU by force," commented Tohdoh Kyoshiro, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. "So he beats them by diplomacy. How like him."

As much as it galled many of those present, the invasion and conquest of Japan by Britannia had only been a side-show to the main event. Britannia had thrown the best part of two million troops, almost its entire strength, at the European Ultra-Union. There was no other way, as that peculiar institution included not only the whole of Europe and Russia, but enjoyed the allegiance of the African states too. Perhaps half of those men and women were now dead, wounded, or maimed. Little wonder that Schniezel had tried a different tack.

It was paying off handsomely. Spain, France and Russia, which had borne the brunt of years of war, had finally backed down, throwing the union into chaos. Britannian troops were now on their soil, pushing on to the remaining member states which chose to continue fighting. Two massive salients had been pushed into Africa, one in the north and one in the south. Already, most of the surviving African states, along with Poland and Italy, had expressed interest in joining forces with the masked liberator, though they had given nothing in writing. _Yet_.

"The big question being," Diethard went on. "What are we to do about it?"

"I see no reason to do anything," commented Li Xing-ke, Supreme Commander of the Chinese Federation's armed forces, and its de-facto ruler. The taciturn warrior's finely-sculpted face was as expressionless as ever. "If that self-satisfied clique can't hold itself together, then let it collapse."

"He has a point," Diethard added cautiously. "We can always hoover up the pieces later."

"The EU is a natural ally," Tohdoh interjected. "They've resisted Britannia more consistently than _some _I could care to name."

"If you wish to say something, say it plainly." Xing-ke's eyes narrowed. Zero felt a twinge of discomfort. He really did not want to have to slap the two warriors down. They might slap back.

Concealed behind his trademark mask, Zero's eyes surveyed the gathering around the conference table. Most of them he knew well. Tohdoh and Xing-ke sat opposite one-another, exchanging dark glances. Further down the table was Diethard, along with Ougi Kaname, the Minister of Public Safety, and Shinichiro Tamaki, Minister of Finance, two leftovers from the Shinjuku resistance cell. On the other side was Kallen Kozuki, Leader of the Elite Zero Squadron and by far his favourite subordinate. Next to her was Kaguya Sumeragi, a scion of one of Japan's wealthiest families, and his self-appointed fiancee. Laksharta Chaula, the head of his Research and Development team, had also turned up.

"Much of what we've achieved would not have been possible without the EU," Tohdoh went on, his voice harsh. "They've kept Britannia busy for all these years, keeping them overstretched. We have near-complete freedom of action because of that."

"Tohdoh is quite right," Zero commented. "Continue, Diethard."

"The Japanese government-in-exile", Diethard went on, "has been quite vocal in protesting any kind of deal that doesn't involve a guarantee of Japanese independence."

"Another one?" Tamaki was incredulous. "I thought that guy Sawasaki was the government-in-exile?"

"Along with the Kururugi leftovers in China," Tohdoh commented, "and the radicals holed up in Australia, that makes _three_ governments-in-exile. And that's only the ones we know about."

"They're represented by this man, Masakado Daidoji." Diethard pressed a button on the console in front of him, and a picture appeared on the main screen. It showed a lean, well-built man with black hair in a somewhat conservative cut and blue-running-to-purple eyes. Even in the picture, he had an air of quiet dignity and nobility about him.

"Hey, I remember that guy," Tamaki spoke up again. "Wasn't he the Ambassador to Britannia?"

"He was," Ougi confirmed. "He got recalled about a month before the war started. Some kind of bust-up with Kururugi's clique."

"From what I can find out, they were against him for opposing the late Prime Minister's policies." Diethard opened another dossier. "He seemed to think that baiting Britannia was distinctly unsafe."

"_Whatever_ could have given him _that_ idea?" Laksharta drawled, drawing rueful chuckles.

"This represents a problem." Zero steepled his fingers. "The Kururugi-remnant and the Radicals are irrelevant, but this faction enjoys considerable support among the exile communities, potentially more than we do."

"That can't be right!" Kallen protested. "_We_ liberated Japan! Why would they choose a bunch of blow-hards over us?"

"Because they're rich and selfish, that's why," Tamaki groused. "They cleared out at the first sign of trouble, and spent the last seven years living it up in Europe!"

"That's not fair," Ougi stated, irritated by his old comrade's attitude. "We can't blame them for wanting to escape."

"Yeah we can," Tamaki retorted bitterly, shifting in his seat. "What did they do while we were starving and fighting?"

"Actually," Diethard interjected, a little more forcefully than was necessary. "Our media analysis suggests they're under a lot of pressure from ordinary exiles. We have a lot of support from Europeans as well."

"Media analysis?" Tamaki snorted. "We'll need more than that."

"I agree," Zero cut in. "We need to canvass the exile communities more directly. They could be a good source of recruits."

"Europeans as well?" Kallen cocked an eyebrow. "I mean, we shouldn't just turn them away if they want to join too."

"Europeans too," Zero agreed.

"We should persuade the exiles to return." Ougi spoke up. "Tamaki was right that sense. The exiles in Europe are practically our educated elite."

"Exactly the sort of people we need to rebuild Japan's economy and infrastructure," Zero commented. "Your future subordinates, Tamaki."

"All I'm saying is it won't be easy." Tamaki shifted in his seat. He could be infuriatingly casual at times. "People will see them as a bunch of sneakaways who only care about themselves. It's…you know, public confidence."

"Public confidence isn't your concern," Diethard interjected.

"The hell it isn't!" Tamaki snapped back. "My ministry's already full of ex-collaborators and Britannian hangers-on! What's gonna happen when the blood-and-honour brigade takes notice!"

"We have to give them _something,_" Ougi insisted. "If not democracy, then we have to make the people feel as though their opinions matter."

"Any such measure would divide the country when unity is most needed!" Zero snapped, cutting off the nascent row. The chamber seemed very cold all of a sudden. "The people must accept our leadership if Japan is to be rebuilt."

"Do we resort to repression then?" Ougi wondered aloud, making no effort to hide his distaste. "I've barely enough Riot Police for Tokyo, let alone Honshu."

"Are you saying we have a public order problem?" Zero allowed just a hint of threat into his tone.

"Well, not really," Ougi was caught off balance. "We're keeping up food supply, and the rebuilding's on schedule. Tohdoh's garrisons are enough to keep the population in check for now…but…" he trailed off.

"But what?"

"I…I would recommend against using forceful repression. Even after the occupation, there's still a hundred million people in this country. A thousand Black Knights and two-hundred-thousand troops can't hold them down by force alone."

"And most of mine are only cadets," Tohdoh added. "They're good for garrison duty because that doesn't take much skill. But if I am to defend Japan I will need as many of my troops available as possible, and additional weaponry."

"Oh don't start this again!" Tamaki griped. "You've had your budget increased twice since we started!"

"Be that as it may, our armaments are still insufficient. We barely have enough Knightmare frames for the regular army, let alone APCs, tanks or artillery. Worse, we have no air force, no air-defence system and practically no navy. We need fighter jets, surface-to-air missile systems, anti-ship missile systems and radar arrays. It would also give us an opportunity to diversify our small-arms and knightmares."

"What's wrong? Are my creations not good enough?" Laksharta feigned offence.

"That was not my meaning. I understand why the Lord Regent wishes the _Gekka_ and _Akatsuki_ to be reserved for the Black Knights, but the regular forces need better than the _Burai _if they're to perform up to standard."

There was a pause. Zero sat where he was, fingers steepled, making neither sound nor movement. All assembled watched him closely, the atmosphere growing ever tense.

"We cannot allow the EU to drop out of the war," he said eventually. "Our forces are not yet sufficient to withstand a Britannian counter-attack. As such, we must not allow Britannia to end the war by negotiation." He stood up, all did likewise, except Tianzi as she was too important. "Tohdoh, sent lists of your requirements to myself and Diethard." He turned his head to Ougi. "Do whatever is necessary to maintain public order, but use force only as a last resort. Coordinate with the army where necessary." He straightened, looking straight down the twin tables. "We will reconvene tomorrow to make our preparations."

With the meeting broken up, they assembled persons filed out through the main doors, with the exception of Zero and Kallen. He headed out a side door, Kallen at his shoulder. They stopped on an observation balcony, giving them a panoramic view of the capital.

After a nod from Kallen, Zero reached one hand up to his mask. The back plates retracted, and he slipped it off. Lelouch Lamperouge blinked as his eyes adapted to the sunlight.

"So then," he turned his head to regard Kallen. "How is respectability treating you?"

"Well enough," she replied, her expression neutral. It had taken considerable effort on her part to get over the fact that her miraculous leader, and her cynical, apathetic former classmate, had been one and the same. Sometimes she wasn't sure whether to feel proud or betrayed.

"What I mean is," Lelouch looked her in the eyes. "What do _you _think?" Kallen paused, choosing her words.

"I…think a lot of things," she admitted. "I mean…we're free now, we got our country back, but at the same time…" she trailed off.

"You miss the old days?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Things were so much simpler back then. Now it's just one complication after another."

"That's politics for you," Lelouch smiled. "Our little revolution was never going to stay pure for long. Things have to get done." They watched the city for a while. It extended for miles, beyond the occupation authority buildings, out into the widening circles of the _Towkyow _concession, and beyond that the ghettoes. They could barely be seen, the ruined buildings having been torn down. Reconstruction was continuing at a rapid rate, to provide homes and jobs for the newly –liberated Japanese.

And for those few Britannians who had remained, whether by choice or circumstance.

"I wish Naoto was here" Kallen said eventually. "He'd be so pumped up about all this. I…I know he'd have given anything to meet you."

"We'll rebuild the country," Lelouch stated, resolute. "We'll do it for him, and all the others who were sacrificed."

"_Considering what's coming," _he thought sourly, _"it's the least I can do."_

_**

* * *

**__**50 Miles East of Wadi-Haifa, Sudan, North-African Front, June 23rd 2018 ATB**_

Sir Marcus Coverdale squeezed the trigger. The assault rifle juddered, spitting 30mm bullets at the EU Knightmare as it crested the sand dune in to his left. The bullets raked across the frame's twin heads, causing them to explode in a shower of sparks and glittering fragments. The enemy faltered, though only temporarily blinded, leaving him his opportunity. He lined up the rifle again, the factsphere locking on, switching the fire mode with a touch of a button.

He fired, this time a much heavier 122mm round, such as what a tank might use. His knightmare's rifle could not manage the same range as a tank's main gun, but it didn't matter. He fired again and again, planting the shots cleanly into the most likely weak points. The desert-painted _Panzer Hummel_ shuddered and collapsed sideways, smoke rising in billowing clouds.

But Marcus was already turning away, his left screen dimming to protect his eyes from the flash as the enemy knightmare blew up. He could see another of its type in front of him, rounding the dune on which its comrade lay, already levelling its main guns to fire.

Theoretically the _Panzer Hummel_ was a match for the Britannian _Gloucester_. It was less versatile, with guns instead of the prehensile arms and hands that allowed Britannian knightmares to handle a wide variety of weapons. It was profoundly ugly, with crooked legs and two flat heads, lacking the purity and nobility of Britannia's humanoid mecha. But it was well-armoured, well-armed, and agile, capable of doing considerable damage in the right hands.

This pilot was faster than his late comrade. Marcus had to haul on the stick, slewing his _Gloucester _sideways to avoid the volley of cannon shells. The factsphere was on the job, the targeting solution ready as he brought up the rifle to fire. A burst of 122mm shells ripped through the _Panzer Hummel_'s torso. It exploded with a bright flash.

"There's no challenge here, Sir Marcus!" Marcus suppressed a snigger at the eager voice from his comm. "Second-rate pilots and the frames aren't much better!"

"Don't get too cocky, Sir John," he admonished, glancing between the screens and his factsphere display. "We're not done yet."

"Looks like the last of them," Sir Simon Jekyll called from atop one of the dunes. "Not much of a show. Why do we have to do these recon missions anyway?"

"They keep shooting down our spy planes." Sir Marcus allowed his knights a brief chuckle. "Our Air Force comrades have so little to do these days." This brought a bark of laughter over the comm.

"A shame the EU can't build knightmares the way they build SAMs," Sir John Fallow commented. "I wanted to see this _Orlando_ we've been hearing so much about."

"Why bother?" scoffed Sir Richard Warrick, the fourth member of his Group. "It's only a _Gloucester _ripoff any…wait, incoming!"

An instant later the factsphere beeped a warning, and Sir Marcus turned his knightmare to see the incoming threat.

It was a Knightmare, but unlike anything he had previously seen. It looked vaguely like a _Gloucester_ or a _Vincent _in desert colours, but with a different head and short wings extending from its back. On one arm was a heavy kite-shaped shield. A heavy black cloak hung from its shoulders, billowing as it descended.

"Sir Marcus, what _is _it?" It was Sir John, no longer quite so cocky.

"Let's get him!" Sir Simon yelled, his Knightmare racing towards the newcomer. "There's only one!"

"Sir Simon! Come back here!" But Sir Marcus could only grit his teeth in frustration as his subordinate ignored him. The young fool charged, gun blazing and lance couched. The newcomer turned, with little apparent urgency, pointing its shield arm at the oncoming _Gloucester. _Sir Marcus could see something drop from under the curve of the shield, a slight flash, and a white pencil line heading straight for Sir Simon.

"_Missiles under the shield" _Sir Marcus thought, as Sir Simon slewed his knightmare sideways in a vain attempt to dodge. _"Nice touch." _The pencil line curved as the missile homed in on the unfortunate Sir Simon, blowing his knightmare apart. As it did, the strange knightmare turned its head towards Sir Marcus.

"Jammer online!" Sir Marcus snapped, praying inwardly that the VO was working properly. Outside, the factsphere unit clicked open as the enemy fired off another missile. Sir Marcus hauled on the controls, bringing his knightmare to the right, the landspinners screeching. But some god somewhere was with him, as the missile flew past, through the empty space he had occupied only a few moments earlier.

"Flank him!" He turned his knightmare towards the enemy, gun blazing, though the shots seemed to have little effect. Sir John was coming in from another direction, and the enemy turned to face him. It brought up its right arm, muzzle-flashes erupting from the forearm bulges. Sir John's knightmare came apart in a shower of wreckage and flame. Sir Marcus snarled in frustration and couched his lance, coming closer and closer. He was approaching from its right-hand side. It was open.

He saw it reach its hand under its shoulder. He saw it come up, a sword in hand. He saw the sword glow an angry red.

"_Maser Sword?"_

All this he saw in the passing of a moment, and though he tried to turn, his hands would not obey. The enemy turned and brought the sword up in a wide arc, slicing through his knightmare's arm and into the torso. The flash of the blade was the last thing Sir Marcus Coverdale would see before his viewscreens shorted out and his consoles began to explode.

The knightmare stood still, as its final target collapsed and exploded. The force of the blast made its cloak billow.

"Command to Hyperion. Sitrep. Over."

"Hyperion to Command. Enemy scouts KIA. Four Gloucesters. Patrol Troop KIA. Over."

"Understood. RTB."

"Will comply."


	2. The Burden of Memory

**Chapter Two: The Burden of Memory**

_A King should sacrifice the best affections of his heart for the good of his country; no sacrifice should be above his determination. _

_Napoleon Bonaparte_

_**NOW**_

_**Tokyo, Capital of Free Japan, June 23rd 2018 ATB **_

He was the ruler of a hundred million people. Their fates lay in the palm of his hand. He wielded power beyond what most could imagine.

And wasn't it _dull_?

Lelouch stared down at the documents, only the present selection of the paperwork that threatened to overwhelm his desk. And the former Governor's desk was larger than most. He'd thought the red tape at school was a pain.

"_Can't they make any decisions for themselves?" _he thought, stamping a document a little harder than necessary. Thrusting it into the OUT tray, he looked down at the next item, a dossier with the Black Knights logo on the cover. He flicked it open and read.

It was a preliminary report from Diethard regarding an investigation he had ordered a few months ago. The Black Knights Intelligence Division had been gathering information on the island of Kyushu, one of the largest islands of the archipelago that made up Japan. The report made for sobering reading.

SKK, or _Shinri-Kyo-Kai_, was an alliance of far-right militant groups, most though not all of which had consistently resisted Britannian occupation. Their star had dimmed somewhat since the rise of the Black Knights, though they had appeared content to follow Zero's lead. If Diethard's information was anything to go by, however, they were starting to get ideas.

An elegant chiming sound drew his attention to the comm screen. He pressed the control for 'voice only'.

"Yes?"

"Captain Kozuki and a Miss Ashford to see you, your Excellency."

"Send them in."

It would be a few moments until they arrived. Lelouch slipped his mask on and spent a few frantic seconds scrabbling among the heaps of paper until he found what he needed. He glanced down the lists of names, each one personally vetted and selected. The names were almost all Japanese.

There was a sharp knock and the door clicked open, admitting Kallen Kozuki. She was dressed in the new formal uniform, consisting of a black jacket with a silver aguilette and braid, white trousers and knee-length boots, a handgun holstered at her hip. Just behind her was Milly Ashford. Dressed in a wide-brimmed hat, a cream-coloured dress and carrying an expensive-looking handbag, she carried herself like the noble-born lady he knew her to be.

He had been dreading the day when he would encounter one of his old friends. For all that had passed between them, he had thrown their lives into turmoil and even killed one of their loved ones, albeit unintentionally. He found himself wondering why she had come.

"Miss Ashford," he said, voice distorted by the mask. "Please, take a seat." She sat primly, elegantly-curled blonde hair spilling around her shoulders. Kallen took up position at his right shoulder, in the manner of a faithful bodyguard. "How might I be of help to you?"

"Come on _Lulu_," Milly sighed in feigned exasperation. "Take off that silly mask. As if I hadn't already figured out who was under there."

Zero paused, possibilities flashing through his mind. Did she really know? Or was she just bluffing? Might this not be some trick to make him reveal his identity? Beside him, Kallen had managed to keep a straight face. Just.

Deciding that action was preferable to inaction, Zero brought up one hand, and with a dramatic flourish he slipped off the mask. Milly did not even blink.

"If you don't mind me asking," Lelouch placed the mask on the desk. "How did you know it was me?"

"Oh, nothing much," Milly gave him a coquettish smile. "Just…little things."

"I should've known never to underestimate you." Lelouch kept his tone conversational, acting as though it were all in good fun, even as he brought one hand up to his eye. Then, just for an instant, he saw a gleam in her eyes. With all his presence of mind, he managed to keep the hand moving upward, brushing away a lock of hair.

If Milly had known what he was about to do, she made no show of it.

"You know, I always suspected you'd make your mark," Milly said, regarding him with what might have been amusement or even pride. "But a country to call your very own?"

"It's not all fun and games," Lelouch attempted to retort, failing miserably. Though he was doing his best to regain control, she had caught him off guard. "So what is your business?"

"I came to see _you_," Milly replied, with just a hint of reproach. "But mostly I wanted to know if I could be of some use to you."

Lelouch was taken aback. Was she asking to join up? There had to be a reason, and his flustered mind couldn't think of one.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Lulu, surely you understand the situation I'm in." Her manner was nonchalant, but Lelouch suspected her true feelings were anything but. "For the appalling crime of not being on the first ship to Area 10 after you over-ran Kobe, I'm _persona non grata _in the Empire. That is to say, me and just about everyone else who stayed."

"There's a good question," Kallen spoke out of turn, her tone suspicious. "Why _did_ you stay?" Lelouch thought of reproaching her, but it was a question he wanted answered.

"My grandfather wasn't going to just abandon his students any more than I was going to abandon him." Milly shot Kallen a reproving look. "Not everyone had the means to escape while they had the chance. And since my family was already in disgrace since the death of Lady Marianne Lamperouge, as far as the SIS is concerned I'm already either on your side or dangerously partial to it. You must surely understand this."

"I understand." What she had said was basically true. "But _you_ must understand Milly. If we…find something for you to do, then you _will_ be a traitor to the Empire."

"Frankly Lulu, I have no choice." There was a hard edge to her voice. "No matter where I go, the SIS will either hunt me down or judge me unworthy of the effort, and I'm not entirely sure which is worse. I know what you're thinking, and you're right. I _do_ want something in return. It's not much though."

"And that is?"

"I want to place Ashford Academy under the protection of the Black Knights." Her manner was stern, and once again Lelouch saw something of the noble lady she was. "Our students and their families have been threatened, and the school grounds have been repeatedly menaced by mobs. Our students have the right to expect the state's protection, which _you_ promised to all persons."

Lelouch was silent, not quite believing what he had just heard.

"Milly, there's no need," he said, actually sounding sincere. "I won't tolerate civil disorder or the mistreatment of the helpless. I don't need your allegiance to protect Ashford Academy, or any other non-Japanese." Milly stared into his eyes for a long time. He was grateful to have remembered the contact lens.

"I'm grateful, Lelouch" she said eventually, smiling. Lelouch relaxed.

"So, how have things been at the Academy recently?"

"Well we've had to replace you on the Student Council," Milly stated matter-of-factly. "After all, you're officially missing-presumed-dead."

"I suppose I would be." Lelouch had accepted that he would have to leave his old life behind, but somehow, the idea of having been replaced still hurt. "By whom?"

Milly rested her chin on her steepled fingers. "Sebastian Lockhart."

"Lockhart?" Lelouch feigned ignorance. "Seb Lockhart?"

"I know you two never got on all that well," Milly went on. "But he's head of the Opera Society. With him on the council I can keep the performing arts clubs under control."

"Of course," Lelouch forced himself to relax. "I'm sure he'll be a big help."

"Now now, _Lulu_," Milly had seen through his pretence. "Just because he roped you into that performance of _The Gondoliers, _there's no need to be bitter."

"You promised…" Lelouch slammed his hands down on the desk, his face reddening. "You promised never to bring that up again!"

"Come on Lulu," Milly used his nickname again, deepening his embarrassment. "Surely you're not ashamed of your carefree schooldays?" He noticed that one of her hands was inside the expensive Italian handbag, but too late. She pulled something out and thrust it straight at Kallen and CC.

"See?" Milly's eyes gleamed as Kallen leaned in to look at the photograph. "Isn't he cute?"

"Is that Rivalz?" Kallen tried and failed to stifle a giggle. "What's with those pants!"

"The pictures of Lulu sold best of all," the Class President's smile widened almost malevolently. "I've actually got the DVD somewhere."

"It's…" Lelouch tried to control his temper. "It's only because I lost a bet. And those pants were too tight."

"It was an absolute triumph," Milly recounted gleefully. "A packed house every night. Shirley attended _every_ performance." She gave Lelouch a meaningful glance.

"Come to think of it," Lelouch seized upon the chance to change the subject. "How is Shirley these days? And the others?" Milly turned to regard him, and the atmosphere suddenly changed.

"Worried sick about you. So is Rivalz, though he won't show it quite so much. Nina went off with Lloyd, and we haven't heard from her in months. I hear she was in China during your little escapade there."

"She was," Lelouch admitted. "I…wondered if she'd kept in touch." He remembered seeing Nina in the Forbidden City. There had been much whispering and gossip regarding Schniezel's 'date' for the reception. The events of that night had proven that she still burned a torch for Euphemia.

_Euphie…_

He forced the thought away. Now was not the time.

"You know, you really ought to pay a visit," Milly admonished. "Not in your official capacity obviously, but it would help Shirley calm down. It might help Rollo too."

"Is my brother giving you trouble?"

"Not really." Lelouch noted a flicker of uncertainty in Milly's demeanour. "He's…a tad antisocial, that's all. He hasn't joined any clubs and he rarely speaks to anyone. I think he's pining for you."

"I'm sure I can find the time for a visit." All things considered, a brief visit to his _Alma Mater _would be a welcome relief, not to mention an opportunity to see his brother.

"Incidentally," he handed her the document. "Here is the list of recommendations for the Academy. I shouldn't think the Dean will have any objections." He watched, allowing himself a little trepidation as she read the lists. She gave him a knowing smile.

"So many Japanese," her eyes sparkled. "I even recognise some of these names. If I didn't know better, I would say you had a romantic soul."

"_Ah," _Lelouch thought, _"so she was keeping track of them too."_

"Well I don't foresee any problems," Milly slipped the list into her handbag.

"I'm glad to hear it," Lelouch smiled. "I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

Once Milly had left the office, Kallen gave him an odd look.

"Did you…?"

"I think," Lelouch lounged in his seat. "There shall be some happy reunions this semester." To his surprise, Kallen actually smiled. To his even greater surprise, he found that he liked to see her smile.

_**

* * *

**__**Nantes, Britannian occupation zone, France, June 23rd 2018 ATB**_

Lord Suzaku Kururugi was not a happy man.

In the courtyard of the _Chateau des ducs de Bretagne, _with the sun warm on his back and a gentle breeze cooling him, he should have felt content. But he could not bring himself to feel anything but sadness.

Now the headquarters of the Nantes occupation authority, the once-pleasant chateau bore the marks of war. Sheets of canvas had been strung between the Caretakers' Lodge and _Le Harnechement, _creating a shaded space in front of him, in which were laid the objects of his attention. Comm aerials sprouted up from the rooftops, swaying in the wind. Several knightmares were parked across the courtyard from him, the pilots lounging about as technical personnel swarmed over their machines.

But Suzaku paid them no mind. In the shaded space in front of him, there laid a series of open body-bags. They were all that remained of a group that had succeeded in infiltrating the chateau the night before.

It no longer surprised him how young they were. They were little more than children. They had not been the only ones either. Until the ceasefire had come into effect only a few days earlier, there had been repeated reports of armed civilians taking part in the fighting. Some of them very young.

He looked at their faces, some of them still twisted in rage and determination. He had seen that look on so many faces, on so many battlefields.

"_They're only kids,"_ he once overheard some soldiers say. "_Why do they do it? What do they keep on fighting for?"_

He had a pretty shrewd idea why.

"How glum you seem, Sir Suzaku." He did not allow himself to respond, though he knew the voice beside him. The man was taller, with fiery carrot-coloured hair greased up in spikes. His eyes were narrow and devoid of pity. Lord Luciano Bradley, the Tenth Knight, had been admitted to the Knights of the Round Table, the most prestigious of the Empire's many orders of chivalry, for his considerable battle prowess. It was his knightmare, Suzaku suspected, that was parked behind him.

"These French put up quite a fight, not that it did them much good," Bradley commented, eyeing the corpses.

"They should have surrendered."

"Where's the fun in that!" Bradley's thin lips stretched in a narrow malevolent grin. "I'm glad I got a decent slaughter in, before his Highness talked them into throwing in the sponge." He leaned closer, until Suzaku could feel his breath on his neck.

"But that's not your idea of fun, is it, _Sir Suzaku_?" Contempt dripped off his tongue. "I'm told you always give your enemies the option of surrender. Not that they ever take it." Suzaku felt cold. He wished that bloodthirsty man would go away, but the Knight seemed to be enjoying his discomfort.

"The Purists say that Honorary Britannians aren't fit to bear arms," Bradley went on, sounding almost casual. "Maybe they're right after all."

"Pull in your fangs Vampire!" called a cheerful voice. "Or shall I fetch my pliers!" Bradley's face momentarily twisted in rage, but he backed away as two young men came across the courtyard. Like Bradley, they wore the uniforms and cloaks of the Round Table, but whereas Bradley's cloak was orange, theirs were green and blue. The one in the green cloak, with short blond hair and an overly sunny disposition, he knew already. The other, with long honey-coloured hair and a sour expression, he did not.

"_Wein _and _Custard_," Bradley forced himself to smile. "Is dinner served?"

"Sorry Vampire!" Lord Gino Weinberg threw an arm around Suzaku's defenceless shoulder. "Suzaku's not for eating either."

"And you, _Custard_?" Bradley sneered, directing his attention at Gino's companion. The other knight made no apparent reaction, but Suzaku saw the flash of irritation in his eyes. "What's it with you, Custard?"

"Run along now Vampire!" Gino made a shooing gesture with his free hand. "Go and torture some prisoners or whatever floats your boat." With a hiss of annoyance, Bradley spun on his heel and stalked off.

"I wanted to introduce Custard here," Gino detached himself from Suzaku and slapped the sour-faced knight on the back. "He's the Knight of Seven as of a few months ago. Sir Suzaku, Lord Aramis Custer. Custard, Sir Suzaku Kururugi."

"I understand you were Princess Euphemia's Knight-of-Honour," Lord Aramis held out a thin hand. "You have my condolences."

"I thank you, Lord Custer," Suzaku took his hand somewhat gingerly, bowing his head. "If your lordship will forgive my curiosity, are you any relation to General the Lord George Armstrong Custer?"

"He was my ancestor." There was a flicker of something on Custer's narrow face. "If you will excuse me, Sir Suzaku, Lord Weinberg." He actually bowed slightly to Suzaku, before turning and heading towards the parked knightmares.

"I think he likes you!" Gino beamed.

"But…" Suzaku faltered, caught off guard.

"Oh don't worry about Custard! He's a bit neurotic, but a fine knight otherwise."

"What is this _custard_?" Suzaku asked, trying to change the subject and regain the initiative.

"You've never had custard!" Gino exclaimed in overblown shock. "We must get you some at dinner tonight!"

"If you will forgive me, Lord Weinberg…"

"Gino, Suzaku, Gino!"

"Have you known Lord Custer a long time?"

"How did you guess?" Gino beamed. "Custard and I were bunkies at Bulstrode's Academy. Vampire was there too. Terrible rough place, so he thrived. It's where Custard got his nickname, by way of a fellow called Lippincott. Dreadful bully. Drowned mysteriously in a vat of custard two days before graduation."

"Drowned!" Suzaku spluttered, disbelieving.

"Only kidding!" Gino slapped him on the back a little harder than necessary. "It set so hard they had to break him out with a hammer and chisel! Anyway, anyway," he pulled a wad of papers from his waistband. "I thought you might want to see the latest intel."

Suzaku took the papers and began skimming, as Gino hung on his shoulder. Something caught his eye two pages in.

"The _Orlando_?"

"That's it!" Gino tapped the grainy picture. "Their new general-deployment knightmare. It's a _Gloucester_ rip-off, but not a bad effort all things considered." Suzaku regarded the image. It did indeed look like a Gloucester, with the distinctive shoulders and legs. The head was different, however, and the cockpit did not protrude from the front, but was instead covered with an armoured plastron.

"And this," Gino flipped the sheet over, "should get your attention." Suzaku saw what appeared to be an even grainier image of an _Orlando_, but this was somewhat different. He could make out short wings extending from the back, and strange bulges around the shoulders. He read the notes, narrowing his eyes.

"Some sort of C4C system?" he wondered aloud. "Could they have developed a working DRUID system?"

"Doubt it," Gino mused. "It's most likely an uplink to their TacNet and StratNet, rather than a self-contained system. Still an impressive frame though. It's been wiping out Recon groups on the Sudan border right up to the ceasefire. Apparently it's called _Charlemagne._"

"I didn't think the EU was capable of building a 7th Generation Knightmare."

"We don't know for sure how capable it is," Gino did not seem at all perturbed. "But we'll probably find out soon enough."

"You think there won't be peace?" Suzaku was mildly surprised.

"If there is, it won't last," Gino shrugged. "The Euro-Ps are mightily pissed off with us, and they've never liked how we operate, in the Areas for example. Even if we pull out of Europe itself, they'll not be best pleased about the new settlements in Africa. Mark my words, this war won't end that easily." He sniffed the air, and his face fell.

"Uugh! Zip them up someone!" As an armoured soldier set about closing up the bodybags, Suzaku continued to regard them, the faces imprinting themselves on his thoughts.

"_Euphie would have wept at this" _he thought sadly. As he thought of her, of that terrible moment, he brushed his left hand over the fingers of his right. Gino noticed the gesture, and wondered what it meant. But he could not see what Suzaku was thinking. Nor what he was remembering.

_The sound like a gust of wind, followed by a thump. He saw in the corner of his eye. He saw her fall backwards, a spray of blood marking her passage. He felt himself begin to move._

"_EUPHIE!" The words came out, all propriety and dignity forgotten. He raced towards her, arms outstretched, even as the soldiers opened fire. He could not hear the roar of the guns, or the screams of the Japanese. _

_He caught her in his arms. Her body, so slim and light. Her body, which he had known only once. Her body, which was dying. _

Suzaku drove the vision away, even as tears pricked at his eyes. He did not want to weep in front of Gino, or anyone else. He squeezed his right hand tighter.

"Anyway, we'll be accompanying Prince Schniezel to Brussels for the talks" Gino went on, cheerfully as ever. "You, me, and Anya too. It'll be like old times!" Suzaku could not bring himself to say anything.

_**

* * *

**__**St Darwin Boulevard, Holy Empire of Britannia, June 23rd 2018 ATB**_

It was a beautiful day, though Nunnally Vi Britannia could not see it.

After bathing and dressing with the assistance of a maid, she had breakfasted and had the _Pendragon Times _read to her. There had been little in it to lighten her mood. It consisted largely of reports from Europe and Africa regarding the last bouts of fighting before the ceasefire. Its headline, however, was an update on the casualty figures from the Rio de Janeiro settlement. Several months ago an unknown number of EU submarines had positioned themselves off the coast and launched a spread of cruise missiles into the naval base and docks, destroying them utterly. As so often seemed to happen, some of the supposedly 'smart' missiles had gone astray and struck the settlement itself. The warheads, so it was said, were sakuradite-enhanced. The result was a death toll in the hundreds of thousands and expected to rise. Worse, the investigators had only bothered to count the Britannian dead. Nunnally dreaded to think how many unfortunate _Sixes_, as the people of the former Empire of Brazil were known, had been killed. She might have sought the opinion of her knight, Lady Anya Earlstreim, but she was no longer around, having been sent to the front.

Nunnally missed Anya's company quite profoundly, though it had surprised her how much the other girl had changed. The Anya she had known seven years earlier had been sweet-natured and obliging. The present-day Anya, however, was distant in her manner and deadpan in her occasional speech. What was more, the old Anya had never displayed _any _interest in fighting. Yet now she was the Knight of Six, an honour, Nunnally knew, given only to those of great valour and prowess. Yet despite the changes, she had enjoyed Anya's company. If nothing else, Anya's presence had granted a degree of safety; a rare commodity on St Darwin Boulevard.

She had spent the morning paying calls, coming in time to Warrick Palace. Her host, if she could be thought of as such, was a lady with whom Nunnally had a long, complicated, and not particularly affectionate relationship.

"My lady Gabriella?"

"You've nothing to fear Clovis. No one here hates you."

Nunnally sighed. She had paid her father's consort, her mother's old rival, yet another visit in the hope of seeing some improvement. But she would have seen no improvement even if she were not blind. Queen Gabriella La Britannia, once a consort of the Emperor and mother of his late son Clovis, had gone quite mad.

"Clovis, don't say such things," the aging queen reproved the rag doll she clutched in her arms. "You know I'll always be here for you."

The doll, the psychiatrists had explained, represented Clovis, though that much was obvious. She seemed to be living in her memories, doped on sedatives and confined to her palace for fear of what she might do. It was as though she had taken too much _Refrain _and was stuck in some selectively-remembered past. A past inhabited only by herself and Clovis.

It would have been difficult not to feel pity, even if one had not seen her in such a state. The sneering newspaper columnists, who seemed to take pleasure in the suffering of others, had never seen this. Her servants had remained loyal, or so it appeared, for they still attended upon her. One of them stood silently behind her wheelchair.

"Haven't you anywhere else to be?" Nunnally barely suppressed a shudder as she recognised the voice.

"I might ask you the same question, Carine."

"I'm just passing through." Nunnally could not see her half-sister, but did not really need to. Carine Le Britannia was a month older, with bright blue eyes and red hair tied in twin bunches. She had worn her hair that way for many years, despite someone's comment that the bunches looked like horns, or perhaps _because _of it. Her dress was cut low enough to arouse interest but _just _high enough not to scandalize.

"I have to say I misjudged you," Carine went on, much amused. "You're magnificently vindictive to keep coming back here like this. It borders on the obsessive."

"I only wished to visit Queen Gabriella," Nunnally protested. "I had hoped that she might be getting better."

"How _sweet_ you are, little sister," sarcasm dripped off Carine's tongue like venom. "That's what they always say. _Sweet_ Nunnally. _Kind_ Nunnally. _Precious_ Nunnally."

"She does not seem to have improved," Nunnally replied primly, deciding to meet her sister's scorn with dignity, since nothing else had ever worked.

"Well that much is obvious. You're lucky you're blind. You don't have to _see _her." Carine shuddered when, as if on cue, a long globule of saliva began dribbling down Gabriella's chin. "I suppose you haven't heard about Thaddeus," the redhead's face split in a particularly nasty grimace.

"Isn't he on the _Crown Imperial_?"

"He is," Carine snickered. "What's left of it, that is."

"Oh," Nunnally was crestfallen. "Was she sunk?"

"There's an understatement for the record books." Nunnally sighed inwardly. She knew by her sister's tone that the end of His Imperial Majesty's Ship _Crown Imperial_ had been violent and most unpleasant. Carine could be so bloodthirsty at times.

"Still bullying Nunnally I see," came another voice from behind. Nunnally recognised it as Guinevere, the eldest of her half-sisters.

"I'm not bullying her," Carine retorted with feigned innocence. "Why ever would I mistreat dear sweet Nunnally?"

"Guinevere," Nunnally spoke up. "I just heard that brother Thaddeus was killed."

"I fear so," unlike her younger half-sister, Guinevere seemed genuinely affected. "He got sunk an hour before the ceasefire. He never had much luck." She sighed. "Anyway, _Brunhilde_ and I were on our way to commiserate Oddyseus. We thought you'd like to accompany us."

"Commiserate?" Nunnally cocked her head. "Whatever do you mean?"

"He has an audience with the Emperor this afternoon," Guinevere explained. "He means to ask for permission to see Faramond. Thus, we go to commiserate him."

"Faramond?" Nunnally was surprised. "Does he really need permission?"

"Our _precious_ nephew has been in seclusion for years," Carine commented snidely. "He's only around when the Emperor wants him for something. Oddyseus still hasn't been forgiven for that fiasco with Sophia."

"Oh, I remember." Nunnally did remember. And she did not like to remember.

"Besides, he couldn't see Faramond anyway" Guinevere went on. "Word is he's been sent to advise Schniezel. It might get him to stop mooning over Euphemia."

"He must miss her terribly," Nunnally replied. It was no surprise. Euphemia had practically raised Faramond after _that_ incident nine years ago.

"_Poor Euphie,"_ she thought sadly. _"And poor Faramond. What must he have been through?"_

_**

* * *

**__**Then**_

_**St Darwin Boulevard, March 2nd 2009 ATB **_

Euphemia Li Britannia looked from left to right, straining her eyes for any sight of him. The gardener had seen him come this way, and she could think of no reason why he would lie. As she glanced around, the anger boiled inside her.

"_That woman! Foul, wicked, beastly woman! How dare she! Her own child!"_

There would be no forgiveness that time, no second chances. Not after what she had done to Faramond, in front of _witnesses. _No woman capable of such an act was fit to raise the Emperor's first grandchild. And if the Press found out…

A flash of inspiration came, as she spotted a path leading into a grove of trees. She hurried up the path at some speed, having long since mastered the courtly art of running in a floor-length dress. She passed through a leafy arch, hurrying on between lines of trees, coming eventually to an ornamental pond set in a carefully-arranged clearing.

And there he was.

Faramond U Britannia, all of five years old, sat by the water's edge, hugging his knees. Though pained by his dejection, Euphemia forced herself not to cry. Instead she came up behind him, quietly so as not to startle him, and squatted down. He did not acknowledge her presence, but did not object to it either. Her sadness intensified when she saw the bloody patches on his head, where whole clumps of his curly brown hair had been torn out.

It had been his mother's hand that had done this. It was Sophia U Britannia's hand, with those long and narrow fingers, that had thrust into his hair and pulled, as though ripping up a particularly recalcitrant weed.

She could still see it in her mind's eye. She could see Sophia with her hand gripped in his hair, yanking back and forwards, screaming incoherent obscenities that she hoped never to hear again.

Forcing the vision away, she pulled out a lace-trimmed handkerchief and dipped one end in the cool water. Faramond hissed in pain as she dabbed at his scalp, sliding her free arm around his waist to hold him still.

"Shhh," she whispered. "It's all right." Faramond did not reply. He was drowning in humiliation and shame. He had been publically trounced by his own mother, and it had been all he could do not to cry out in pain. He felt rejected, unwanted, and worthless, a feeling only slightly relieved by his aunt's presence.

"Faramond," she said, after a few minutes dabbing. "Come inside. Everyone's worried."

"No," Faramond's voice croaked, and Euphemia knew he had been crying. "They hate me. Even mother hates me."

"That's not true!" she protested, so forcefully that he shied away from her. She saw his eyes, the same colour as his father's. They were full of fear, like those of an animal overly accustomed to the whip. She had been told that it was good to be feared. They said that it was necessary, that it kept one safe, that people obeyed most readily out of fear. _Let them hate me,_ Caligula had said, _so long as they fear me._

But it didn't feel good. It hurt. She felt hurt that her nephew might be afraid of her. And she thought Caligula was a rotten bully who'd never loved anyone.

She pulled him closer, pressing his head against her shoulder. She did not care if she got his blood or grass stains on her dress. It no longer mattered. Dinner had surely been cancelled after that display.

It was so _unfair_. She'd been looking forward to it for days. A chance to wear her newest outfit and eat dinner in the main banqueting hall, with her father and everyone else, when her sister Cornelia had come visiting from the Military Academy. But Sophia just_ had_ to fly off the handle and spoil everything.

"Nobody hates you, _Kitten,_" she whispered, using his nickname. It was a lie, she was sure, but one he probably needed to hear. "Everyone wants you to smile. Everyone wants to hear you play your flute."

"Can't…play it." Euphemia mentally kicked herself for bringing it up. The main reason being that he no longer owned a flute. Another of Sophia's crimes.

"That's okay, your father will understand." She kissed him on the cheek, making him squirm. She didn't want to think about his father either. For all his gentleness, Oddyseus could be utterly useless at times. It had gone on for months, probably years, and he had done nothing to protect his son. That in itself hadn't bothered her much. Her own father, the Emperor, was not exactly a protective figure in her life. But still, she thought, surely he could've done _something_. Instead of just standing there looking helpless.

"Euphie! Euphie where are you!" The call stirred her from her thoughts. She looked up to see Lelouch and Nunnally come running along the path.

"Ah!" Lelouch looked relived, though his face was pale. "You've found Mondo!" He squatted next to them, and winced when he saw the state of his nephew's scalp.

"Faramond, are you all right?" Nunnally hunkered down next to her brother. "You're all right, aren't you?"

Faramond sat up and tried to look Lelouch and Nunnally in the eyes, but found that he could not.

"I…I am…" He was trying so hard to maintain his dignity. For his part, Lelouch did not know what to say or do. He had never faced something like this. There had been no lessons on how to deal with an abused five-year-old. Lelouch cursed himself. He _wanted _to comfort his nephew, but for all his cleverness he just didn't know how.

"Kitten, don't cry." Nunnally pre-empted him, bending forward to hug Faramond. It occurred to Lelouch that he knew what was needed, he just didn't want to do it. As much as he might care for Faramond, hugs weren't really his thing. Instead, he patted his nephew gingerly on the shoulder.

"Come on," Nunnally said cheerfully. "Let's go back."

"I can't!" Faramond shied away, every bit as frightened as before. "She'll hit me! She'll hit me because I…" he trailed off.

"No she won't" Nunnally proclaimed, as sternly as her effusive nature would allow. "If she did, big sister Cornelia would hit her again!"

"Oh," Lelouch turned to Euphemia, suddenly remembering. "Euphie, your face."

"It's all right." Her cheek was still red where Sophia had backhanded her. "It's nothing really."

"So anyway, come back with us," Lelouch prompted.

"I can't," Faramond replied forlornly. "They hate me. I can't do anything right."

"_We_ don't hate you!" wailed Nunnally, appalled.

"Your mother's just…strange," Lelouch paused, wondering if he had said the right thing.

"Is she strange?" Nunnally looked quizzically at her brother. "All the ladies at Court keep saying she's a wicked witch who seduced brother Oddyseus with her womanly wiles."

"Er, Nunnally," Lelouch was rather unsettled. He wasn't sure that his little sister should know about such things.

"Big brother, what are womanly wiles?"

"Lelouch! Nunnally! There you are!" The four looked to see that Queen Marianne had arrived.

"Mother!" Nunnally ran to her. "Mother, we found Faramond!" As Marianne approached, concern on her face, Faramond stood up. He bowed to Marianne in the courtly manner.

"My Lady Marianne," his voice was as grave as he could manage. "I…I apologise for my…behaviour."

"You have nothing to apologise for, Prince Faramond," Marianne smiled. "What happened wasn't your fault. Your grandfather the Emperor has said so himself." Faramond looked visibly relieved.

"Mother," Lelouch spoke up. "What will happen now?" At this, Marianne sighed.

"Faramond, your mother is being sent away for a while." She spoke to him gently, knowing from experience what a five-year-old might understand. "Your grandfather decided it would be best for both of you." That was putting it as mildly as possible. "But you mustn't worry." She placed a hand on his shoulder, knowing that he was doing exactly that. "We'll all take care of you." Faramond stared up at her, his eyes full of fear, but also the beginnings of trust. His healing would take time, she knew, but perhaps a beginning had been made.

"Lelouch, Nunnally, I need to talk to Euphie for a moment. Will you take Faramond back?" The siblings nodded cheerfully, took Faramond's hands and led him away.

"Euphie," Marianne turned to regard her. "Are you all right?"

"I am all right, Lady Marianne," she ran a finger over her cheek, which was showing a bruise.

"You were very brave, Euphie. You did the right thing."

"I couldn't do anything," Euphemia sulked. "It was Cornelia who stopped her."

"Be that as it may, you were brave." Marianne's smile widened. "And violence doesn't solve much."

"I'm glad Sophia is being sent away!" Euphemia clenched her fists in frustration. "She treated Faramond so badly! It went on for years, but he never told anyone!"

"I know, but we can't undo it now."

"Why did it have to come to this!" Euphemia's composure was gone. "Why couldn't something have been done! She got away with it! She got away with it because no one wanted to do anything! _No one cared_!"

"_Now I think she understands_" Marianne thought sadly."_She understands why Cornelia hardly comes to visit, why she prefers life at the Military Academy._"

"Euphie…" Though it pained her, Marianne had no easy answers. "Euphie, the bond between mother and child is precious. We had to believe that she would get better, that things could be resolved." She couldn't help but wonder if it sounded as pathetic to Euphemia as it did to her, but it was pretty much the truth.

"Euphie, I know you've been lonely since Cornelia started at the Military Academy." Euphemia blushed slightly, but did not argue. "So your father and I asked your mother if she wouldn't mind taking in Faramond for a while. Would you like that?"

Euphemia looked up at Marianne in surprise. "You want me…to take care of him?"

"I think he feels safe with you. And your father thinks you're the right person. Can you do it?" Euphemia nodded, without reservation or hesitation.

"Good. Run along now." Marianne stood where she was, watching Euphemia as she hurried away.

**

* * *

****(Sorry for the delay. Just a brief note to explain a couple of things. Yes Euphie's death happened differently, but I'll reveal the details as the story goes on. As for why Suzaku isn't the Knight of Seven, that will also be revealed.) **


	3. The Most Precious Secrets

**Chapter Three: The Perfection of Ideology**

"_To do all that one is able to do, is to be a man; to do all that one would like to do, is to be a god."_

_Napoleon Bonaparte_

_**Then**_

_**Kaminejima, Area 11, Holy Empire of Britannia, December 10th 2017 ATB **_

"SUZAKU!"

"LELOUCH!"

The guns cracked. One bullet struck Suzaku's comm headpiece, shattering it and drawing a thin line of blood as it passed. The other struck Lelouch's gun, knocking it sideways. Lelouch staggered from the force of it, and Suzaku came at him, launching into his trademark spin-kick and knocking him to the ground.

"Zero!" Kallen rushed forward, then faltered as Suzaku straddled Lelouch, pointing his gun backwards at her.

"It's _Lelouch_!" Suzaku snarled. "It's your false messiah! Would you serve a man like that!" Kallen stood where she was, her mind frozen by indecision. Thoughts and feelings flew back and forward.

He had led Japan to freedom, yet he had done so for his own interests. He was her classmate, yet he was Zero. He was that cynical, disinterested boy who so irritated and beguiled her, yet he was the leader she revered.

Suzaku stood up, gun aimed at his prone enemy. Beaten and helpless, Lelouch turned his head to face her.

"Kallen…" One look decided it. One look at those eyes. No, not both eyes, just the one. The right eye.

In an instant she was moving. Without thinking, she drew her pink pouch, the blade sliding out with a deft squeeze. Suzaku began to turn, realising the danger, but it was already too late.

Suzaku screamed as the blade rammed into his side. Kallen tackled him, the force of the impact sending him sprawling, the blade ripping free in a shower of blood. As if on autopilot, she grabbed Lelouch's arm and pulled it over her shoulders before racing away down the tunnel. She could not understand what she was doing. It was like the moment when she saw the enemy, when time seemed to slow down and her body would not obey. In that pure state, not thinking, but only doing, she dragged Lelouch towards the exit.

The spotlights were blinding. Lelouch and Kallen recoiled, shielding their eyes. **"Drop your weapon!" **came a voice through a knightmare's loudspeaker. **"Do not attempt resistance!" **Lelouch drew his arm aside just a little, allowing a glance from the corner of his eye. He could make out armed men and knightmares. They were surrounded.

"It's been a long time, Lelouch." The figure appeared, sillhoutted in the blinding light. Even so, Lelouch knew who it was. As the lights turned down, Kallen saw, and the colour drained from her face.

Charles zi Britannia, 96th Emperor of Britannia, stood before them, the spotlights casting his face in malevolent shadows. Around him were soldiers, dressed battle armour not unlike that of Britannian infantry, but their face-plates were smooth and featureless. Behind them were knightmares, coloured what appeared to be a pale purple or lilac. Lelouch cursed inwardly. Even if he could summon help, his Black Knights were no match for the Imperial Guard.

"You really are a beginner, my errant son." The Emperor's face was expressionless. "It was so ridiculously easy to lure you away from your followers." He eyed Kallen. "With only the inestimable Red Lotus to assist you. Not very clever."

What have you done with Nunally!" Lelouch shrieked. "Where is she!"

"She is no longer any of your concern," the Emperor replied dismissively. He continued to regard the pair as a white-uniformed Guard officer approached and saluted.

"We have found Major Kururugi, your Majesty. He is badly wounded."

"Bring him on board. See to it that he does not die. I have use for him."

"Yes, your Majesty." The officer hurried away.

"Your little rebellion has caused quite a stir," the Emperor chuckled. "For all your other faults you make a fine chess piece, for the game I am playing."

"Oh really?" Lelouch growled. "Am I still your pawn?"

"A pawn? No indeed. You are my Black Bishop, and only a few hours ago you took the White Queen and checkmated my opponent."

"White Queen?" Lelouch froze, horrified. "Euphie!"

"Indeed. I have to say I never though of her as such, but she made quite the Queen."

"It wasn't me!" Lelouch shrieked. "I didn't kill her!"

"Well isn't that a mystery," the Emperor commented, his face shifting to something that was not quite a smile but not entirely neutral. "Because I didn't kill her either."

"Liar!" Kallen hissed. "You had everything to gain! It was the perfect way to discredit us! Kill your own daughter, provoke the slaughter, put down the riots later!"

"Everything to gain?" Charles' tone was part-questioning, part-mocking, like a teacher dealing with a particularly dense pupil. "Chaos in Area 11? Countless Britannians dead? Sakuradite shipments disrupted? What could _I_ possibly gain from provoking a massacre? It was in my _interest_ to let Euphie have her way. Most of my governors keep the pawns in line through administrative mass-murder, but she kept them in line by giving them hope. Quite clever, quite clever indeed."

"It's too late anyway!" Kallen snarled triumphantly. "Japan is free of you! You don't have any troops to spare! You can't stop us now!"

"You say that as though I _wanted _to stop you." Charles gave her an indulgent smile as Kallen's face fell again. "But of course, you have no conception of the games that are in play. You don't even know who my opponent is."

"In any case," the Emperor went on. "I would like you to go on being my Black Bishop and Black Knight respectively. I have quite a few things for you to be doing."

"Damn you!" Kallen lost her temper, enraged beyond endurance by his tone. "We're people, not chess pieces!" She made to leap at the Emperor, but one of the guards was faster, slamming his rifle down on her back, knocking her to the floor.

"Guards, restrain them." Lelouch tried to struggle, but the guards held him fast, binding his hands with tape. Kallen fought even harder, hissing in frustration as they held her down. Once they were both bound, the guards did something rather strange. Lelouch felt an armoured thumb push against his right eye and then pull upwards, then more tape was applied. When the hands were removed, Lelouch found that he could not close his eye. An instant later, another length of tape was slapped on his left eye. His one weapon was neutralized.

"Now then," the Emperor said, dismissing the guards with a nod. "I cannot have you remembering our little meeting here. It will be necessary to change a few details." To Lelouch's horror, his eyes began to glow a shade of red. The familiar spread-wing symbol of the Geass was visible in them.

"You…" he spluttered, not believing.

"I will give you both new memories." Lelouch struggled useless against his bonds, feeling even then the touch of his father's will upon his mind. "You will forget useless details and distractions. You will forget the life of Lelouch vi Britannia, and Lelouch Lamperouge. You will forget about your mother, about your brothers and sisters, about Euphie and Nunally. You are Zero, and only Zero, for I wish it so."

The Emperor's brain was no normal brain. It had been subtly refashioned, reorganized by a means unknown to human science, in order to wield a mysterious power, a power both wonderful and terrible. A power called Geass.

"Charles Zi Britannia engraves upon you…false memories of a false life!"

Electromagnetic pulses poured forth from it, driving through Lelouch's eye and into his mind, perhaps even his soul. Driven more by their wielder's instinct than by any clinical understanding, they tore and rent at his memories. Lelouch tried to fight it, but he could feel his memories fading. His sister, his mother, his friends…

"You took my _life _from me!" he roared, even as his identity slipped away. "You cannot take my memories!" Beside him, he could hear Kallen shrieking and struggling, all to no avail. He had never felt so powerless, not even on that terrible day…

"_A dead man has no rights."_

_**

* * *

**__**Now**_

_**Narita Mountains, Japan, June 24th 2018 ATB **_

Ougi Kaname was glad of a moment to enjoy the sunshine.

There had been much to do. It had taken months to refit the underground base for the needs of the Black Knights. An heirloom left by the defunct Japanese Liberation Front, and a Japanese military facility before that, the base had officially been destroyed by a combination of Britannian firepower and Zero's famous mudslide. That was all the public, and the Army, needed to know.

Now he stood atop the mountain, looking down into the valley. Around him, the peaks gleamed white with snow. He felt strangely at peace, as if all his nagging worries and obligations had blown away on the chill wind. He felt free, and had not felt so free in a long time.

He heard the footsteps behind him, and knew who it was.

"Thought I'd find you up here." Shinichiro Tamaki strolled up beside him, a cigarette clenched between his lips.

"I had to get away for a while."

"Did you see Zero?"

"Yes, last night."

"How did he take it?"

"Well enough." Ougi sighed. He had tendered his resignation from the post of Minister of Public Security the night before. Zero had taken it better than he expected. "He said that Koizumi could take over from me."

"That guy from Choshu?"

"Yeah."

"I don't get it," Tamaki flicked away the spent cigarette. "Why give up a job like that? I mean, you were Minister of Public Security! Was it the salary!"

"It was too much for me, Tamaki," Ougi admitted. "When I got into this, I didn't expect to be a Minister."

"What did you get into it for then?"

"Well…" Ougi paused, thinking it over. "I…I just wanted to get it over with and go back to being a teacher. I want my life back."

"I got what I wanted," Tamaki lit up another cigarette. "I wanted to be a bureaucrat, and I wound up as Minister of Finance. Who would've thought?"

They were silent for a while.

"Tamaki, do you ever miss the old days?"

"Back when we were just the Shinjuku resistance?" Tamaki puffed on his cigarette. "Sometimes. Things've gotten a lot bigger since then, and a lot more complicated."

"All because of some Britannian kid in a mask," Ougi trailed off, wondering if he dared ask the question that had been haunting him. "Did you ever wonder why? Why he did it?"

"I dunno," Tamaki shrugged. "Could be any reason. Maybe Boss Charlie screwed his family over, took his big sister as a concubine or something."

"But we're being used," Ougi protested. "Are you okay with that?"

"Why not?" Tamaki humphed. "Everybody gets used by somebody. It's all down to what you get in return. Zero used us, we used him. He gets his revenge, we get Japan. Seems fair to me."

There was another long pause.

"Damn it Ougi!" Tamaki snapped, irritated. "What's bitten you?"

"I was thinking of Naoto, that's all," Ougi admitted, after a short pause. "You know I could never take his place. I miss him."

"Not half as much as Kallen does," Tamaki retorted tersely. "Just let it go. Hell, we knew we weren't all gonna make it." Ougi did not reply for a long time. He knew that his friend was right, but still felt awkward.

"Is the _Guren_ ready?" he asked, changing the subject. "You know Kallen, she'll throw a fit if it isn't ready for the mission."

"You know Laksharta," Tamaki retorted. "Always a _few more modifications._ Poor kid'll be lucky if the thing even moves. The _Akatsuki_s are online and the _Ikaruga_'s ready."

"That's one thing, at least. Any idea where Zero is?"

"No idea. Kallen said there was something important he had to do today. I reckon he's gone to Euphie's shrine again."

"Probably."

"Ougi-san! Tamaki-san!" Both jumped at the cheery voice. "There you are! I've been looking everywhere." Kaguya Sumeragi appeared behind them, being rather perky. "You have to come inside. We need your help wrapping the Guren!"

"Wrapping the Guren!" Tamaki spluttered. "The hell!"

"Oh," Kaguya's cheerfulness soured. "You forgot, didn't you."

"Forgot what!" Tamaki did a double-take.

"Baka!" Ougi covered his face in exasperation. "The celebration tomorrow! For Kallen!"

"Oh frig!" Tamaki clutched at his head in panic. "I haven't got her anything!"

"Too bad!" Kaguya grabbed their arms. "You're needed downstairs!

She led the pair to the entrance concealed nearby, down into the mountain. The air was no longer cool and crisp, but bland and recycled. The sunlight was replaced with the cold glow of illumination strips set into the ceiling and walls. Kaguya brought them to the observation lounge, where the party was to be held.

In contrast to the mechanistic inhumanity of the gunmetal walls and the cold light of the secret base, the observation lounge was a scene of organized chaos. Various men and women in black jackets, most of whom he knew, busied themselves putting up decorations, including an enormous banner reading, "Congratulations Kallen!"

Or at least, they were trying to do so, their efforts punctuated by shrieks of pain, people falling off stepladders, and a thousand and one small arguments. Ougi could not help but smile at the scene.

One wall of the lounge consisted of a curving window, allowing the occupants a panoramic view of the grotto below. It was a vast space, continuing on work begun by the JLF over a year earlier, when they had been in possession of the base. Ougi could see the midnight-blue bulk of the _Ikaruga_, the Black Knights' first and thus far only floatship. Along the walls of the grotto he could see ranks of knightmares being maintained, black-uniformed support personnel swarming over them like ants.

But it was the object on a platform close to the lounge that caught his attention. It was the _Guren_, or so it appeared to be, half-covered in brightly-coloured wrapping paper. More Black Knights moved back and forth around it, seemingly trying to figure out how to wrap the other half.

Ougi sighed, and headed for the adjoining door as Kaguya started barking instructions. He was going to have to do what he had always done. Sort things out as best he could.

"_Naoto,_" he thought, as he headed down the steps to the platform. "_If you're up there, I could use your help round about now._"

_**

* * *

**__**Tokyo, Capital of Free Japan, June 24th 2018 ATB**_

The shrine was deserted. That in itself was unusual. It was not quite as popular as it had been just after the rebellion, but the shrine to Euphemia the Martyr, or _Santa Euphemia_, still enjoyed many visitors. Normally the place would have been heaving with people, the exact demographic varying according to the time of day. As he entered, he could see only a young woman in a kimono. A young woman with long green hair. This was not enough to draw his attention, however.

The centrepiece of the shrine was a large portrait. It had been pilfered from the former Britannian headquarters, and had probably belonged to Princess Cornelia. Now it had become an object of worship and adoration, the image of she who would have lifted the Japanese from their suffering, and was struck down in her moment of perfection. Euphemia Li Britannia had become Japan's new mother goddess.

Lelouch stared up at the portrait. Her face, the face he knew so well, looked benevolently down upon him. He understood why people came to pray to this image, to ask her protection. He could almost believe that she was watching, that she cared, that she still loved him. He could almost believe that she had forgiven him.

"_Euphie…_"

He didn't know why. He _still_ didn't know why. All those months of investigations, background checks, interrogations, and he still didn't know _why._

"Is your conscience tender, Lelouch?" He didn't turn around. He knew the voice too well.

"I would not deny it, CC," he replied. The immortal girl turned to face him, her green hair hanging loose as it always did, her expression as usual neutral.

"You've been coming here quite regularly," she said. "Do you seek absolution?"

"I didn't do it, CC," Lelouch hissed, anger seeping into his tone. "You _know_ I didn't do it."

"If you say so," she replied airily. "But should you? You still have gaps in your memory. Gaps I wasn't quite able to clear out."

"I know." They had haunted him. There was some secret there, some insight, something he _desperately_ wanted to know, but could not remember.

"_Oh now you're being silly! Stop playing with me!"_

"_I'm serious." In that instant, curiosity joined forces with an adolescent pettiness. "For example, if I ordered you to reveal your deepest, darkest, dirtiest secret, you'd tell me without reservation." Euphemia froze, and Lelouch paused, wondering what had happened. _

"_Oh," she said, somewhat vacantly. "My secret…"_

The ultimate clue. The one possibility of knowing the truth. His only chance of finding out _who_ had ordered the death of Euphemia Li Britannia_._ It lay in those few lost minutes, in that conversation that he couldn't remember, in the terrible secret she had revealed to him and him alone.

"Do you really need to remember?" CC said coyly, cocking her head. "You might not like it. Besides, your story about a Britannian plot went down well enough. Why not just let them have their fantasy?"

"They can have their fantasy," Lelouch growled. "But I want the _truth_!"

"What if you can't handle the truth?" CC's smiled widened. Lelouch clenched his fists and forced down the rage. "How do you know he wasn't acting alone?"

"Tenryo wasn't acting alone," Lelouch turned to face her, eyes blazing. "He _can't_ have been. I won't believe it."

"One man with a gun can change the course of history," CC commented casually, glancing towards the portrait. "If he knows where to point it, that is."

"I should remember," Lelouch snapped, "if you had done your job properly!"

"Would you rather I hadn't?" CC wondered aloud, seemingly unruffled by his tone. "Would you rather be as you were then?" Lelouch faltered, the anger and frustration draining out of him.

"No," he said. "I'm…I'm grateful that you did it. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't."

"Oh I don't know," CC smiled again. "You were quite impressive without all that baggage. Such focus, such drive. You actually repaired your own reputation."

Lelouch had to admit that she was right. His desperate flight to rescue Nunnally had left the Black Knights in a dire position. Had Tohdoh not ordered the retreat when he had, the rebel forces at Tokyo might have been completely destroyed. He had returned after only a few hours to find his forces scattered and the garrison on the counter-attack. It had taken all of his skill, all of his brain power, all of his _will_, to get things under control, in the face of a desperate enemy and distrustful allies.

It had not denied him victory, only delayed it. A war that might have ended in one night instead took a full month. A month of sleepless nights, organising, improvising, fighting. He had rallied the Black Knights. He had leashed the remaining rebels together into the _Nihon Rikugun,_ the new Japanese Army, putting the now-revered Tohdoh in command. They had used any weapon that presented itself, anything that could be cobbled together. He had personally overseen it all. Back then, the dockets and papers seemed to leap on and off his desk, when he had the time to sit there.

There had been triumphs, such as when the Army's 1st Division had destroyed a Britannian force twice its number, in a rerun of Tohdoh's 'miracle.' There had been disasters too, such as when he had been forced to pull troops out of three captured settlements in order to maintain momentum. Without the troops to keep order, fighting had broken out between desperate Britannians and vengeful Japanese. And it wasn't just the _gaijin_ who drew the ire of some newly-liberated Japanese.

And when it was all over, when Japan was free, he had crawled into bed and slept for the best part of two days. How surprised he had been, when his eyes fluttered open, to see a buxom girl with green hair standing over him.

"_What is this? Did Tamaki send you?"_

"I'm not sure I ought to forgive you for making such assumptions," CC teased. "Though I'm sure Kallen wouldn't have minded."

"Enough, witch!" Lelouch snapped, face reddening. "I _need _to remember! I _have _to remember what she told me!"

"I'm sorry, Lelouch. I don't know what the problem is, but those memories are still hidden. Either he did a better job than usual, or something else is hiding them."

"What's _that _supposed to mean!"

"Maybe you don't want to remember," CC suggested wryly. "Maybe what she told you was _so_ terrible that you can't bring yourself to remember." Lelouch paused, considering what she had said.

"Maybe you're right," he said eventually. "But I have to know."

"Don't say I didn't warn you. And in any case, what of Kallen? I never got round to restoring _her _memories."

"Leave her as she is," Lelouch ordered. "There are things she doesn't need to remember." His true identity for one. Lelouch wasn't sure if she had registered _that_ little revelation, but the risk was too great. She had chosen him once, but he couldn't be sure she would choose him twice.

"You want to remember everything," CC said as he turned to leave, her tone reproving. "But you deny Kallen her memories? There's a word for that, boy."

"Considering the things I've done," Lelouch replied, without looking back, "hypocrisy is no burden." And with that, he strode out of the shrine.

He was due at Ashford Academy, and it would not do to be late.

_**

* * *

**__**Ashford Academy, Tokyo, June 24th 2018 ATB**_

"Rollo! Open the oven!"

"Open the oven!" the boy chorused in reply. The oven and kitchen benches around him were festooned with half-completed dishes in bowls, pots, and pans of all shapes and sizes. A party was in preparation, and Milly Ashford had spared no effort for her part.

Or other people's, for that matter.

"Add salt!"

"Add salt!"

"Frying pan!"

"Frying pan!" A quick splash of _Doulard, Calvabos Pays d'Hage. __French wine had been hard to get while Japan had been Area 11, but the Ashford family had much money and deep cellars. _

"Add one egg!

"Add one egg!

"Bechamel sauce!"

"Bechamel sauce!"

"Put the Gelato on another plate…and add the rosemary to the sorbet. Make sure the soufflé doesn't burn! And…"

"I can't keep up!" Rollo protested, overwhelmed by the volley of commands. "Why do I have to do all this?"

"Because Rivalz has no sense of taste," Milly replied. "And she…" On cue, there was the hiss of an electric whisk, followed by a screech and a clatter.

"…can't perform simple tasks," Rollo finished the statement without turning round.

"Just be a good boy and get on with it," Milly smiled at her youngest charge. "I'm sure you're much more reliable than your brother." She regarded him for a moment. He had curly brown hair, reminding her of his sister Nunally, and pink-running-to-purple eyes, not unlike those of his brother Lelouch.

"_Yes,"_ Milly thought. _"There's no doubt. He's their brother. No one could have any doubt, to look at them, that is." _Her thoughts were disturbed by another shriek and clatter.

"Shirley, you need a towel?" Rivalz looked up from the potato he was peeling.

"I'll get it myself thank you!" Shirley replied from the floor, somewhat peevishly.

"President? Can I ask you a question?" Rollo spoke up.

"Of course, but I might not answer," Milly teased.

"Why are we having this party? You never mentioned the reason." At this, all activity stopped. Milly kept her expression neutral for a few moments, racking up the tension.

"Oh very well!" she feigned exasperation. "It's for a very important person who's coming to visit us this afternoon."

"It's not Zero is it?" Rivalz spluttered, almost cutting himself with the potato peeler.

"Rivalz Cardemonde, you should know me better!" Milly exclaimed in mock indignation.

"Hey, it's not unreasonable!" Rivalz protested. "You're practically the Britannian community's representative!"

"Is it my fault people adore me? And besides, we need to take Shirley's mind off y_ou-know-who_. I mean, it hurts so to watch her worry." She turned to Rollo, clasping her hands together in the manner of a damsel in distress. "Oh, if my _darling_ Lulu's been hurt or killed…!" She was cut off suddenly as a panic-stricken Shirley came racing around the table and clamped her hands over Milly's unsuspecting mouth.

Rollo ignored the exchange. He had known since the day before exactly _who_ would be visiting, but they didn't need to know exactly what was going on between them.

"_He'll be wanting a situation update," _Rollo thought. _"Maybe he'll let me come on the mission to Europe."_

"Shirley, not that I mind your dirty hands on my mouth."

"Oh, sorry!"

It was a dangerous game he played. It was not his SIS 'comrades' finding out that Lelouch had regained his memories, and that _he _had been concealing this fact, that worried him. He cared nothing for them, not even _Miss_ Villetta, once a Purist knightmare pilot, now an SIS agent. What worried him, what _truly_ worried him, was this lot.

They were chaos on legs, doing one insane thing after another. They were _unpredictable_. What was worse, they had started to drag _him_ into it as well.

But then, if it was so hard to take, why did he worry? Why did it bother him that they could so easily get caught up in his deadly game? Why didn't he just dispose of them the way he had disposed of so many others?

Rollo pushed the matter from his mind. His brother was coming, and they would have chance to talk.

If he could just keep a handle on all the cooking.

_**

* * *

**__**Somewhere in the Alps, EU, June 24th 2018 ATB**_

The black ornithopter crested the peak, riding the wind like a hunting bird. The glossy wings beat so fast as to be almost invisible. But there was no one to hear the sound, not on those high mountains. They stretched out in all directions, black monoliths as old as the world, formed by the clashing of continents, vast holes in the night sky.

The ornithopter continued on its course, invisible to the satellites peering down from the heavens, hidden from the spy planes that prowled the skies only a few miles away. No one could be permitted to see this ornithopter. No one could be allowed to know who was within it, or where it was going.

In time, it came upon a particular set of peaks. The arrangement was known to the pilot, and it was a simple matter to bring the ornithopter between the mountains and into the narrow pass. It was a pass of no great interest to anyone, a pass not that different to any other. It was the ornithopter's destination.

The landing pad was ready. It wasn't much to speak of, little more than a flat stretch of grass at the bottom of the valley. The rocks had been cleared away in advance. The ornithopter was expected. With practised ease, it swept in to land. A lone figure stood at the edge of the cleared space, his greatcoat billowing in the wind kicked up by the flapping wings. The passengers stepped out, and the ornithopter lifted into the air again, leaving them standing on the grass.

The lone figure stepped forward, and the arrivals could make out a grey uniform and greatcoat, complete with an officer's peaked cap. On the uniform jacket's left breast was an emblem in the shape of a diamond viewed side-on, coloured gold. They knew what it meant.

"Gentlemen," the officer spoke with a vaguely German accent. "Welcome to the Mithraeum. You will follow me." With that, he turned on his heel and headed for the mountain. The men, being no-nonsense types, followed without a word. The concealed hatch did not surprise them much, and they took the long elevator descent in their stride. These six men were not the sort of men to be easily affected by their surroundings, although, the officer could not help but note, they seemed to notice everything.

And so they should. They would not have been chosen otherwise.

Eventually the elevator doors slid open. The men stepped out into a large triangular chamber, with the elevator at the point behind them. Before them was a heavy blast door, sealed shut. The chamber was lit by glowing tubes on the ceiling, and the men could see the officer's features clearly.

There was nothing particularly noteworthy about him. His face was unmemorable, much of his head concealed either beneath the cap or by the high collars of his jacket and greatcoat. The only thing they noticed was his skin, which was rather pasty. Evidently he spent quite a bit of time below ground.

The men formed a line, and the officer stood before them.

"Gentlemen, I am Major Reinhart, EUROFORCE liaison officer to this project. You are probably wondering why you were brought here." He paused, scanning his dark eyes down the line of men. They varied in stature, but where all in the best physical condition. Some bore scars, all were shaven-headed. But it was the eyes that told Reinhart what he needed to know. That and their general manner. No soldier's banter, no crude jokes, not even a touch of the eyeball. These were a very particular kind of soldier, the kind that went into battle and came out no longer entirely human. They were the kind that did not think about much beyond their profession, and had nothing beyond it to think about anyway. They were ideal for this project.

"You have been chosen because you are the best. You haven proven yourselves to be prodigiously skilled and unswervingly dedicated. You have been thoroughly vetted to ensure your loyalty. You have passed the tests we set for you, whether you realised it or not. You have no families, no ties to leave behind. In short, gentlemen, you have been brought here to die and be reborn."

The lights turned down. Only now did the men show any sign of apprehension. Reinhart smiled inwardly. This was the part he enjoyed.

"The time has come for you to grow beyond yourselves." Behind him, the heavy blast door clunked as the locks slid open. "The only life possible for you is that of a soldier. That is why we chose you." A crack of light appeared in the door, spilling illumination into the chamber. With a groan of metal-on-metal, the doors parted and swung open. The men did not flinch, though the light coming from it was blindingly bright. Reinhart stepped away to one side, turned his head to the light, and saluted.

A figure stood in the light. A perfect shadow in the shape of a man. The light dimmed, revealing his form in greater detail. It was pure, darkest black, so black that it gleamed. The only sign of life from it was a narrow red visor where the eyes should be.

"I am called Thanatos," it said in a deep, distorted voice. "You obey me, now."


	4. The Ubiquity of Conspiracy

"_A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and carries his banner openly. But the traitor moves amongst those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through all the alleys, heard in the very halls of government itself. For the traitor appears not a traitor; he speaks in accents familiar to his victims, and he wears their face and their arguments, he appeals to the baseness that lies deep in the hearts of all men. He rots the soul of a nation, he works secretly and unknown in the night to undermine the pillars of the city, he infects the body politic so that it can no longer resist. A murderer is less to fear. The traitor is the plague."_

_Marcus Tullius Cicero_

_**Then**_

_**St Darwin Boulevard, Pendragon, Holy Empire of Britannia, April 17th 2009 ATB **_

"Lelouch! Nunnally!" Lelouch grinned at the familiar voice. He looked up from watching Nunnally chase butterflies to see Euphemia come near. Beside her was Faramond, his hand in hers, looking somewhat nervous. Lelouch felt more than a little relieved. It was good to see his nephew out and about again.

He could see his older half-brother Clovis, aged fifteen, approaching accompanied by a girl of about seven in a blue dress. Her hair was midnight black, her eyes a middle blue. But it was her face that caught Lelouch's attention. Its shape was one he had never seen before.

"_Oh Clovis,_" he thought, more than a little worried. "_For shame! You can't be that desperate!_"

"Everyone," Clovis was beaming. "May I present Miss Tomoyo Daidouji, daughter of his Excellency Masakado Daidouji, the Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary from Japan." The girl smiled and bowed.

"I am honoured to meet your Highnesses," her voice was pure and clear.

Lelouch sighed inwardly. Another dainty little courtier. No wonder Clovis found her so tolerable. But if she was Japanese, it would explain why her face was different.

"I'm so glad you came." Lelouch noticed that Euphemia spoke to Tomoyo as though they were friends. "Tomoyo-chan, this is my brother Lelouch, and my sister Nunnally."

"I'm so glad to meet you…Tomoyo-chan!" Nunnally enthused, copying Euphemia's use of the Japanese suffix. Lelouch, by comparison, saw no reason to lower his guard. He gave her a shallow bow, the one he had been taught to use _when one is uncertain of another's station_.

"We are all glad for you to be among us," he said, with excessive formality. "If you will forgive me for asking, are you by any chance related to the House of Kururugi?"

"To a degree, your Highness." That slight smile did not even flicker. Euphemia shot Lelouch a dirty look, but he ignored it.

"_Very good,_" he thought. "_A good answer. Meaningful without really meaning anything._"

Faramond was unaware of this frosty atmosphere. He was looking at Tomoyo as though she had just descended from heaven on the wings of a dream. He was doing so even as Euphemia thought to change the subject.

"And this is our nephew Faramond." Lelouch dropped out of his reverie and watched carefully. Though Tomoyo bowed again, Faramond made no move. So entranced was he, that he waited just a fraction too long. When he remembered to bow, he did so perfectly, and much deeper than Lelouch had done.

It set his teeth on edge. Of all the Imperial children, Faramond was the undisputed master of etiquette. He made it his business to know exactly how to behave in any possible situation. He hid his inadequacies, both real and perceived, behind it. Lelouch did not like it when he did that.

As Tomoyo settled into a conversation with Euphemia and Nunnally, with Faramond close by, Lelouch found himself on the periphery.

"So what do you think of Euphie's little friend?" Clovis asked him, smiling too much.

"I don't think anything of her," Lelouch retorted, as they brothers moved out of earshot. "I didn't know she existed three minutes ago."

"A tad remiss of you Lelouch," Clovis admonished. "Her father's the head of a rather old and rather prestigious Japanese family. Her mother owns a company specializing in toys and children's accessories. Thus, he has the name and she has the money."

"So she's only half common then," Lelouch was unimpressed. He had no particular reason to dislike the girl, but he could not help but think of her as an intruder, coming between him and Euphemia. His sister made friends easily. Perhaps a little _too_ easily.

"Incidentally, Lelouch," Clovis noticed his mood and changed the subject. "Will you play tonight?"

"Of course!" Lelouch felt his spirits rise. He could never turn down a game of chess, even though he had beaten Clovis every time.

"I thought I might…" Clovis stopped suddenly, narrowing his eyes. "Isn't that Sofia there?" He did not realise that Faramond could hear him.

"I don't see how it could be," Lelouch followed his line of sight, then noticed a woman with long black hair in the distance. "I see. It looks a bit like her."

"No…" Faramond's face was ashen. "It…it can't be her…it can't be…"

"Your Highness?" Tomoyo had noticed Faramond's discomfort. "Are you all right?"

"No it isn't," Lelouch said, recognising the distant figure. "That's Amara Earlstreim, the Duchess of Ottowa."

"Oh well," Clovis shrugged. "They look a bit similar from this distance. Lelouch, later will you…oh god!" Puzzled by his half-brother's alarm, Lelouch followed his line of sight.

Faramond sat slumped against the tree, face pale, eyes glazed over, lost in one of his panic attacks. Tomoyo looked worried, but had thus far retained her dignity. Euphemia and Nunnally, by contrast, were in a blind panic.

"Clovis!" Euphemia called. "He needs his medicine!"

"I haven't got it!" Clovis's already sallow face was pale with shock.

"What! Why not!"

"He hasn't had an attack in a week!" Clovis protested, as Euphemia rushed over to berate him. Nunnally covered her ears and began to wail, more frightened by the argument than Faramond's _affliction_. Lelouch rushed over to comfort her, then looked up to see Tomoyo bend down next to Faramond. He watched intently as she sang softly into his ear, in a language he didn't understand.

_Yoru no sora ni matataku_

_Tooi kin no hoshi _

_Yuube yume de miageta_

_Kotori to onaji iro _

_Nemurenu yoru ni _

_Hitori utau uta _

_Wataru kaze to issho ni _

_Omoi wo nosete tobu yo _

Lelouch stared in disbelief. Nunnally stopped wailing. Euphemia stopped berating Clovis. Faramond ceased to shudder, the colour returned slowly to his cheeks. He blinked, seeming quite bewildered.

"Are you all right, your Highness?" Tomoyo asked, as he turned to look at her.

"It's…it's a miracle!" Clovis exclaimed. "We have to sedate him normally!" Euphemia ran up to Faramond and felt his forehead.

"He's back to normal," she turned to Tomoyo. "Tomoyo, I can't thank you enough!"

"Please, your Highness," Tomoyo bowed her head. "Think nothing of it."

"But you're still a complete muffin, Clovis," Euphemia went on. "Forgetting his medicine like that."

"You've no right to call me a muffin!" Clovis protested as Nunnally burst out laughing. Lelouch glanced at Tomoyo, who was giggling behind her hand, seemingly oblivious to the look Faramond was giving her. To him, Lelouch knew, she would never be an intruder.

_**

* * *

**__**Now**_

_**Ashford Academy, Tokyo, Japan, June 24th 2018 ATB **_

Lelouch tried hard to suppress his nervousness.

He had not seen his old school in almost a year. It hardly seemed to have changed. The damage inflicted during the Black Rebellion had been minor, and appeared to have been repaired. It had been a stroke of luck, considering how fierce the fighting had been. The Britannians had not surrendered the capital easily.

As he walked along the path towards the main building, he found himself glancing about, noting familiar sights and faces. There were still a few students about, even though classes had finished for the day. Many of them, he could see, were Japanese.

The change was obvious. These were no longer the sullen, resentful, despairing Japanese youth from before the rebellion. They walked with a spring in their step, chatting amiably with fellow students, Britannian and Japanese alike. Before too long, he spotted a young couple seated on a bench, Japanese and Britannian, with eyes only for one another.

He turned a corner, passed the main building, coming onto the path leading up to the Student Council building. He felt rather nostalgic.

The feeling disappeared as he saw Rollo come out of the main door. Rollo saw him, and paused for just a moment. Lelouch was not worried. Rollo had his instructions.

"Brother!" Rollo's normally blank features shone with very believable joy. "You came!"

"Lelouch!" Now it was Rivalz' turn, appearing from the same doorway. "Buddy! Where've you been?"

"Where haven't I been?" Lelouch quipped, trying to cover his embarrassment. "I just came to see if everyone was…"

"LULU!" A blur advanced upon Lelouch at great speed. It was fortunate that Rollo had seen fit to let go of him at that point, for said blur proceeded to wrap itself around him.

"Ah…Shirley…" Lelouch embraced the sobbing girl. There wasn't much else he could do under the circumstances.

"Lulu!" Shirley wailed. "I thought you were dead! I thought…" she paused, pulled back, then let go of him, her face scarlet. "I…I'm sorry! I don't know why I did that!"

"It's okay, really," Lelouch gave her a fulsome smile, hiding the twinge of worry he felt.

"_She doesn't know why,_" he thought. "_Are some of her feelings slipping out? Might her memories return?_"

He couldn't be entirely sure that the Geass was permanent. Most of the commands he had given since receiving it, and Lelouch could remember every single one of them, had only been relevant to the particular situations in which he had given them. He had been under the impression that a command would last for as long as he told it to.

"So where've you been?" Rivalz interjected, diffusing an increasingly uncomfortable situation. "We thought you'd dropped off the world."

"Sometimes I wonder if I did," Lelouch joked as they headed inside. "I ended up in Area 10 after a while." Inside, they encountered Milly, who greeted Lelouch with yet another hug, eliciting a glare of what might have been jealousy from Shirley. They finally settled in the lounge next to the meeting room, seating themselves on its long sofas.

"What've you been doing for all this time?" Rivalz asked. Like all of them, he was desperate for outside news. "What's happening in Area 10? In the Empire?"

"I've been in Area 10 since Kobe fell," Lelouch began his story, allowing his humour to dampen. "I was…looking for Nunnally." There was a pause.

"She's not with you?" Shirley looked worried.

"No sign of her," Lelouch confirmed, allowing his countenance to reflect something of his true feelings. "I…I kept looking, but there was no trace. It's like she's…" he faltered, and Shirley put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

"Brother," Rollo hit his cue perfectly. "Let me come with you! Let me help you find her!"

"No Rollo. Stay here. I don't want your education getting disrupted over this."

"She's my sister too!" Rollo protested, with impressive force. "I want to help!"

"_No she is not your sister!_" It was all Lelouch could do to maintain his intended demeanour. "_She's MY sister! You're nothing but a cuckoo!_"

"I'm sure you'll find her," Milly reassured him. "Since she went missing here, there's a good chance she'll be here somewhere."

"You think the Black Knights might have her?" Shirley asked, disconcerted.

"I doubt it," Milly replied, after an artfully-timed pause. "I've made some discrete inquiries on your behalf," she nodded at Lelouch. "It's very unlikely that they have her."

"I'm...I'm grateful for your help," Lelouch blinked, as though fighting back tears. This performance was going rather well.

"What are friends for?" Milly smiled, spreading her hands fulsomely. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but there was a sharp knock and the door opened.

"Ah, Miss Ashford." It was all Lelouch could do not to tense, even as they all stood up in reflex. "Sorry to disturb you on a Saturday, but there's something needing your signature."

"Not at all, Miss Viletta," Milly beamed at the dark-skinned woman with pale hair. Viletta Nu was dressed in a purple track suit that did little to hide her athletic figure and had a clipboard under one arm. She scanned her eyes over the students, her gaze lighting on Lelouch.

"Lamperouge, isn't it? You're listed as missing-presumed-dead. Will you be rejoining us for the new semester?"

"I'm afraid not, Miss Viletta," Lelouch improvised. "I, I have an important matter to take care of."

"Looking for your sister?" Viletta actually looked sympathetic. "It's a bad business, a family member going missing. I wish you good luck in finding her."

"Thank you, Miss Viletta." Lelouch bowed his head in feigned respect.

"Pardon me, but…" Milly interjected.

"Ah yes, the swimming club requisition form," she held out the clipboard and a pen. "The club wants you to counter-sign it."

"We'd be so grateful," Shirley spoke up. "It'll make things easier."

"No trouble." Milly signed the form with a flourish. "We're just about to have lunch Miss Viletta. Will you join us?"

"Kind of you to offer, Miss Ashford, but I must be going." She shot a barely perceptible glance at Rollo. "There's a staff meeting I can't miss."

"Of course, of course," Milly handed back the clipboard and Viletta left the room.

"_Ha ha,_" Lelouch thought, triumphant. "_They think I don't know about Rollo and the 'staff meetings.' But I do, I do indeed._" It was all the evidence he needed. Viletta and her SIS friends evidently did not know that Rollo had betrayed them, or else they would have changed their code phrases.

Viletta Nu had entered his life as a knightmare pilot under the command of Jeremiah Gottwald, the now-disgraced leader of the local branch of the Purist faction. Determined to clear his name, she had come within an ace of capturing and unmasking Zero. Had it not been for Shirley, his campaign would have come to an abrupt end. From what Lelouch had been able to find out, she had spent some time as an amnesiac under the care of Kaname Ougi. There, Lelouch had discovered to his dark delight, things had gotten rather interesting.

In the meantime, she was at Ashford Academy, supposedly serving as the Gym Mistress. When she wasn't chasing unwilling students around the running track or being an object of adolescent desire in a school swimsuit, she was running an SIS tracking station somewhere in the water tunnels under the Academy. All this Rollo had told him.

"In any case, how are things in Area 10?" Milly sat down again. "I hear the war hasn't been going well."

"It hasn't," Lelouch admitted, sitting down. "There've been a lot of insurgent attacks, and there were a lot of rumours that the Royal Thai army is gearing up for war."

"I guess they might," Rivalz sighed. "I hear the army's really overstretched. And the Thais have got the Chinese backing them up. We might lose Area 10 too."

"I think it fairly likely."

"No need to let that upset us," Milly changed the subject. "Did you see Prefect Barton on the way?"

"Yes I did," Lelouch smiled as if remembering. "We were on the same ship."

"How is the poor man?" Lelouch's countenance darkened at the question, but that time, he wasn't acting.

Andrew Barton, once the Prefect of the _Kowbay_ Settlement, had gone from political obscurity to global controversy in the blink of an eye. He was remembered by the Japanese as a fair and considerate administrator, and had done his best to keep order in the settlement during the Black Rebellion. After the _Towkyow _settlement had fallen to the Black Knights, it had been left to Barton and a few thousand exhausted and demoralized troops to defend Kobe, and what remained of Area 11 to the west.

For Zero, no battle had been necessary. He merely advanced upon the city with five divisions of the new Japanese army, numbering some 75,000 troops and 2000 knightmares, and his Black Knights. Barton had taken one look at the advancing host, and done the only sensible thing possible. He had surrendered the settlement, and with it the rest of Area 11. With a stroke of a pen he ended the Black Rebellion, and in return he had been allowed to leave Japan along with all the Britannian prisoners and any civilians both willing and able to leave. Tens of millions of lives had been saved.

"I'm afraid he's dead," he eventually replied, his tone grave. "Governor Carares executed him for treason." There was another pause as this news sunk in.

"That's not fair!" Shirley recovered first. "Prefect Barton was a good man!"

"I heard Carares was a psycho," Rivalz looked glum. "But that beats all."

"Of course he is," Milly commented dryly. "It runs in the family. We should probably be grateful for the rebellion. He was slated to get Area 11."

"Now _that's _too much!" Shirley snapped, rounding on Milly. "None of this would've happened if the Elevens hadn't rebelled!"

"Come on Shirley," Rivalz reasoned, evidently embarrassed. "We talked about this. There's no point in going on about it."

"I've hardly gone out since the rebellion!" Shirley groused, taking the opportunity to unload on Lelouch. "It's only because I'd go insane otherwise!"

"I keep telling her there's nothing to fear," Milly added. "But will she listen?"

"It's scary!" Shirley protested. "The Elevens…Japanese…whatever, they keep _glaring_ at you all the time."

"_I _haven't had any trouble," Milly reproached. "So I don't see why you should."

"That's not the same!" Shirley snapped back. "They _like _you. They look at me like I'm something they stood in."

Lelouch understood the situation. Ashford Academy had a comparatively good reputation. By Britannian standards it was distinctly _liberal_ in its attitudes, particularly in its custom of opening its Annual Festival to all comers, Britannian and Japanese alike. This had endeared the school and its pupils to the Japanese, at least in Tokyo. But there were always exceptions, on both sides. The police had done their best to protect the school, along with the Britannian community, but the truth of their situation was undeniable. The Britannians in Japan had gone, in the few months of the Black Rebellion, from a privileged ruling class to a vulnerable minority.

It made Lelouch angry, though he did his best to hide it. For all the triumph, for all the flaunting of the victory by Provisional Government and Black Knights alike, there were still some Japanese for whom it was not enough. Too many were left unsatisfied, taking out their frustrations on any Britannian they could find, repaying eight years of contempt and mistreatment in kind. Despite Ougi's efforts to recreate the Japanese Police, there were still isolated attacks, even occasional pogroms. Lelouch often wondered why so many Britannians had stayed behind. Even if they could not return to the Homeland, there was still the Area 10, or the Chinese Federation, or Australia.

"I agree with Milly," Lelouch said, realising that he had best say something. "I think you're exaggerating, Shirley."

"You haven't had any trouble?"

"No, I haven't. The Black Knights seem to be doing a good job of running the country."

"They're keeping order, at least," Milly agreed.

"But you can't get _anything_!" Shirley griped. "We're cut off from Britannia, so there's nothing to buy. If it wasn't for Milly's family, we'd be in real trouble."

"It should be better once the new trade deal with China gets going," Lelouch said, without thinking.

"New trade deal?" Shirley looked puzzled. "I hadn't heard anything about that."

Lelouch cursed himself. The new deal hadn't been revealed to the Japanese public yet.

"How do you know all this stuff?" Shirley asked, suddenly suspicious. "What do you _really_ think about the Black Knights?"

"Come on Shirley!" Rivalz protested. "Let it go!"

"Lelouch," Shirley stared intently at him, then suddenly recoiled, horrified. "You…you didn't…"

"Shirley…"

"You joined the Black Knights!" Shirley thrust an accusing finger at him.

"I had no choice!" Lelouch had prepared to act out the scene, but found that feigning anguish was not necessary.

"What do you mean no choice!" Shirley shrieked. "You saw what they did!"

"Shirley!" Milly ordered, her face angry. "A word, if you please!"

"How could you!" Shirley laid into Lelouch. "How could you…!"

"Shirley! Outside!" Milly grabbed Shirley by the arm and dragged her shrieking and struggling into the meeting room, closing the door behind her. There was a long silence. Lelouch had not expected her reaction to hurt so. He had to fight to keep tears out of his eyes.

"So then," he looked up at Rivalz, who gave him a worried look in return. "I've said it."

"Lelouch, she's just upset," Rivalz insisted. "It doesn't change anything, I mean, do what you gotta do, but…"

"But _what_?" Rollo asked accusingly, moving closer to his 'brother.'

"It's a big step," Rivalz managed to say. "That's all."

"Zero made me a promise," Lelouch said, feeling as dejected as he appeared. "He said he'd do anything he could to find Nunnally if I joined. What's more, if they _do _have her, I can find her more easily inside than out."

"That's true," Rivalz smiled. "Seriously, don't worry. They don't really seem like bad people, at least not now. But what matters is that you're our friend, and nothing's gonna…oh come on, don't start crying!"

"I'm sorry," Lelouch quickly wiped his eyes on Rollo's handkerchief. His feeling was one of overwhelming relief, and he was surprised by it. He had half-expected them to reject him over it.

"_But they would certainly reject me_" he thought, "_if they knew the whole truth._"

In the next room, there was an altercation going on, though none of it could be heard outside.

"Do you _have_ to be like that!" Milly's voice was not loud, but it was certainly harsh.

"He's joined the Black Knights!" Shirley snapped back. "After what they did!"

"You _really_ are the most sanctimonious little…!" Milly restrained herself, but only just. "Do you have _any _idea what he's been through?"

"But it's _treason_!" Shirley wailed, tears in her eyes. "He's become a traitor! They killed my father!"

"It's _their_ country, Shirley!" Milly gave her a hard look, causing her to recoil. "_Never_ forget that. And what they did before is hardly his fault!" Shirley turned her face away, intimidated, but Milly maintained the offensive.

"He's lost everything, you know," she said, making her tone as reproachful as possible. "His family, his home, all of it. Nunnally is all he has left. Unlike you and me, he has to make his own way in the world, both for his, and for Nunnally's sake."

"But…betraying Britannia?" Shirley sniffed, her resolve already slipping. Milly gave a derisive snort.

"Since when has _loyalty_ ever mattered in the Empire? Do you know, Shirley Fenette, what the Holy Empire of Britannia has cost me?" She drew herself up, and Shirley could see the other side of Milly Ashford, the side that was rarely revealed. She could see Milly Ashford, the aristocrat.

"We Ashfords are a noble family," she said, her voice clear and commanding. "We were for generations, before that damned empire was even founded." Her eyes narrowed. "But then Empress Marianne was assassinated, and we were tossed aside like so much refuse. Don't talk of treason in my presence, Shirley Fenette, because I know the meaning of betrayal." She gave a rueful laugh.

"Don't worry Shirley. We're all traitors here. None of us can go back, not now."

"I know that. It's just that," Shirley paused, gathering herself. "I just hoped that Lulu…I hoped maybe it wouldn't have to be that way…at least, not for him." A tear ran down her face. Shirley could not look her in the eyes. Milly walked around the main table to where her laptop was.

"Come here," she ordered. Shirley obeyed, and saw Milly clicking on a programme labelled "Internal Cameras."

"Since when did we…?"

"You can't be too careful," Milly replied, clicking on the icon labelled "Lounge." The programme activated, providing an overhead view of Rivalz, Rollo, and Lelouch.

"Can you see his face?" Shirley could. She could see his face perfectly. The look of anguish and pain on Lelouch's face stirred something inside her.

In that moment she hated herself. She hated herself for condemning Lelouch, for hurting him over something that could not be helped.

"_He said he'd do anything he could to find Nunnally if I joined. What's more, if they do have her, I can find her more easily inside than out." _

"Are you going to behave yourself now?" Milly asked, her customary humour returning.

"I'm sorry," Shirley said, wiping her eyes with a proffered handkerchief. "I…he is our friend, after all."

"I would never lay down my life for an idea," Milly took Shirley's hands in her own. "But I might for a friend."

"Milly…" They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like eternity. "Uh…Milly?" Then Shirley began to get nervous.

In the lounge, Lelouch was talking quietly with Rollo and Rivalz until Milly and Shirley returned. Milly seemed to have regained her good humour. Shirley merely walked straight up to Lelouch and hugged him again.

"I'm so sorry, Lulu," she whispered.

"Don't mention it," Lelouch whispered back, face reddening. Rollo barely concealed his jealousy.

"Come along then!" Milly called from the doorway. "Lunch is served!"

"_They remember Nunnally,_" Lelouch thought, as he followed the others. "_They remember Kallen too. He hasn't managed to alter their memories. But what about Rollo?_" As far as he could tell, they had accepted Rollo as his brother without question or concern. But then again, they wouldn't have had any reason _not_ to do so.

Rollo had shown up seemingly out of nowhere, claiming to be Zero's younger brother and wanting to join the Black Knights. He had been allowed to join, not least because he had brought a prototype Britannian knightmare with him. The gold and red _Vincent_ had been an asset indeed, though no one had yet figured out how he got his hands on it. Lelouch knew exactly how, but he also knew that it made no sense. That the SIS would equip an agent with an advanced prototype knightmare and send him to join an anti-Imperial terrorist group beggared belief. At least, unless one knew that the Emperor was up to something unusual.

"_They accepted him so easily,_" Lelouch tried not to scowl as he remembered. "_I accepted him so easily. Then again, I did not know who I was._" How easy it had been to believe that brown-haired youth with the intense eyes. How easy it had been with one who did not know who he was, apart from that he was Zero, to believe that he might have had a brother.

A web formed inside his mind, linking together those who knew him. The Student Council knew him only as Lelouch Lamperouge, except for Milly who knew he was a Prince and Zero, and Rollo who knew he was Zero, but not that he was a Prince. The Black Knights knew him only as Zero, except for Sayoko who knew he was Lelouch Lamperouge but not that he was a Prince. His former maid was potentially a problem, but there had been no choice. No one could impersonate him quite so well, and he needed her for his plan. Then there was Milly. She could cause him problems by exposing him as a Prince, but she could not expose him as Zero, at least not without hard evidence.

Then there was Kallen.

He had not asked her to accompany him, and she did not seem to want to. The Student Council, dare he say it, his _friends,_ knew that she was a Black Knight, and it would have caused complications. The real question, however, was precisely how much of her memory his father had rewritten. She still knew him as Lelouch Lamperouge, so he could not have erased much. But she did not seem to remember that he was a prince, nor had she reacted to it at the time. Perhaps, in that time and place, the revelation had not registered. Perhaps the Emperor had only erased the time between them fleeing Suzaku and heading back to the mainland.

"_If she gets her full memories back, she'll remember for sure. I can't be certain she'll stay with me if she knows who I really am._"

_**

* * *

**__**Zenda, Kingdom of Ruritania, EU, June 26th 2018 ATB**_

It was a cold night.

Magnus Constantian exhaled, his breath forming a cloud of pale vapour. From his vantage point atop the battlements of Zenda Castle, he had a good view of the small town. The architecture was in the old style, but nonetheless well lit. The glow illuminated the valley with a spread of lights, reflecting off his pale skin.

The castle was his base of operations for the time being. King Rudolph and his Parliament, which was in those enlightened times democratically elected, had given EUROFORCE permission to use the castle's lower undercroft and dungeons as a command centre. Tourists were kept well away, forbidden officially due to renovation work that was expected to take several years. While they perused the more interesting rooms above, Colonel Constantian and his staff did their work.

Best known for its appearance in a scurrilous 19th century novel, Ruritania was a pleasant place, but not of much importance in the greater scheme of things. The country was small and its people were not numerous nor particularly wealthy. It had little in the way of material resources, and neither its King nor its inhabitants would endure the ignominy of it becoming a tax haven. It had little in the way of troops to offer, the Royal Ruritanian Army consisting primarily of four Mountain Warfare Brigades, though they had fought with distinction in the war.

And there he was, one of the youngest Colonels in Europe's recent history. They had promoted him after a certain Colonel Galland had tragically shot himself with his adjutant's sidearm while inside a locked room. It was his _official_ responsibility to oversee the re-equipping of the Ruritanian troops. His _unofficial_ responsibility was a few miles away under a nearby mountain, in the late stages of construction. He conceded that it was an important task, but he understood only too well why _he_ had been chosen for it.

He was not surprised. The glory road was never a long one, and he had made his fair share of enemies. It was not his snow-white hair, nor his ashen face, nor his colourless eyes. Albinism was not something for which they would hate or resent him. Becoming a Lieutenant-Colonel at twenty-four was more than sufficient. Ordinarily such a thing would have been inconceivable, but he had advanced through a combination of talent, devotion to duty, and an excess of vacancies. Britannia was not shy about using assassination as a weapon of war.

He stared out over the town, longing for his customary equilibrium to return. He missed the cold purity of it, of feeling nothing, of being able to think and deliberate clearly. It was one of his greatest talents, and made his duties so much easier. But there and then, he was troubled by emotion. It wasn't much to speak of, but it was there, distracting him, constantly seeking his attention, desiring his indulgence.

Disappointment. Helplessness. Frustration.

It was not in his character to indulge in emotion. It was not something he had done in a long time, and he did not mean to start now.

All at once, he felt a shift, something he could not easily describe. It was like a ripple of wind, or a change in air pressure. Something he only sensed, but there was no evidence for it. Not that it bothered him, for he knew what it was.

"You are punctual as ever," he said, out into the night air.

"You know I would never let you down Colonel." The voice was metallic and not quite human, coming from to his left and below, seemingly on the outer side of the battlements.

"Janus, isn't it?"

"Yes,Colonel." The visitor seemed surprised that Magnus could recognise him. "Thanatos is busy."

"Are the recruits I sent him satisfactory?"

"Yes Colonel. They should be ready in two weeks."

"Good. I trust the _Furiae _are in combat condition?"

"They are, Colonel. Two-hundred effectives, and the rest will be combat-ready within this week, aside from the newest recruits." Magnus paused for a moment, gathering himself.

"What news?" Janus, for that was his code-name, paused also. It was as if he was bearing terrible news and wondering how best to break it to him.

"The negotiations with Britannia will begin in two days. EUROSEC thinks the formal meetings won't happen until something's been hammered out."

"Another few days then," a hint of disappointment slipped into Magnus tone. "It won't take them long to surrender."

"We're not beaten yet, Colonel."

"As far as the politicians are concerned, we are," Magnus replied, his cold equanimity returning. "I imagine Africa will be lost. Britannia won't settle for anything less after we flattened Rio de Janeiro."

"Colonel, there are many in EUROFORCE and EUROSEC who oppose the peace deal." There was a touch of pleading in Janus' tone, as if attempting encouragement. "We think they may be planning something."

"That may be, but what will the _Furiae _do?"

"We take orders from EUROSEC Colonel, so we will follow their lead."

"And what of you, Janus?" Magnus knew it was unfair to ask a fellow soldier such a question, but he _had_ to know.

"Ask not my loyalty, Colonel," Janus replied, emotion in his tone. "I owe you too much for that."

"I'm sorry, Janus." He meant it. Magnus had no more idea of what to do next than Janus did. He suspected that many other officers, both in EUROFORCE and the state armies, were facing the same question.

"Until next time, Colonel?"

"You are dismissed, Janus." He heard what might have been a brief gust of wind.

He knew Janus well. He had vouched for him before he was Janus, before he had become what he was now, but after he had ceased to be human. He had helped give Janus a new life, as one of the _Furiae._

He felt cold inside as he remembered seeing him for the first time, in the medical wing of a EUROSEC base. Janus had given everything for his cause. He had sacrificed himself over a mistake, chasing a chance to strike a blow against Britannia, even if it was only a pinprick, and left for dead by his companions. Magnus Constantian could not ignore something like that. He could not let that boy wait out his days in some clinic. He could not let that man's dream die.

And it would die, the way things were going. But it was not only dreams that died when Britannia won a war.

_**

* * *

**__**Narita Mountains, Japan, June 25th 2018 ATB **_

"What's this about!" protested a blindfolded Kallen as Zero steered her along the corridor. "Where are we going!"

"Somewhere interesting," Zero grinned under his mask. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she saw what was waiting.

"What!" Kallen started struggling. "What kind of perverted game is this!"

"It's nothing perverted," Zero insisted as the door slid open. He let go of Kallen and slipped off the blindfold.

"SURPRISE!"

Kallen froze as the lights came on. She glanced around at the banners and decorations, at the assembled Black Knights. People she had known and fought alongside.

"You…you guys…" she was lost for words. "But why?"

As if one cue, Tohdoh strode up to her, Kaguya at his shoulder, carrying a scroll and a small box.

"Kallen Kozuki, Captain of Zero Squadron," Tohdoh began, his tone stern. "I have just returned from the presence of his Imperial Majesty, _Tenno-Heika-sama._" There was a low rumble from among the assembled guests. Kallen could not believe what she was hearing.

"It has been my honour," Tohdoh went on, "to inform his Majesty of your many deeds in the service of this country, of your valour and chivalry, going beyond any expectation of duty." With that, Kaguya handed the box to Tohdoh, unrolled the scroll, and spoke in a high, clear voice.

"By the grace of Heaven, Emperor of Japan, seated on the throne occupied by the same dynasty from time immemorial, we confer the Second Class of the Order of the Golden Kite upon Captain Kallen Kozuki of the Order of the Black Knights, citizen of Japan, in expression of the good will which we entertain towards her. In witness whereof, we have hereunto set our hand and caused the Grand Seal of the Empire to be affixed at the Imperial Palace, Tokyo, this thirteenth day of the sixth month of the fourteenth year of this our Reign, corresponding to the two-thousand six-hundred and twenty-third year from the accession to the throne of Emperor Jimmu."

Kallen stared in wonderment as Tohdoh opened the box. In it was a gilt medal in the shape of an eight-pointed star, topped with a golden kite. Beneath it were what appeared to be a blue saltire with crossed golden swords superimposed over it. The ribbon was also blue, with a white stripe. Kaguya rolled up the scroll and took back the box, holding it as Tohdoh lifted out the medal and looped the ribbon over Kallen's shoulders. As he saluted and shook her hand, the assembled guests broke into applause and raucous cheering.

"Congratulations, Kallen," Zero actually sounded sincere as he too shook her hand.

"_My mother,_" Kallen thought, having not yet regained the power of speech, "_is going to flip._"

Zero backed off as people crowded around Kallen and the party got into full swing. As much as he enjoyed Kallen's company, he was not a party person. Tohdoh, his duty done, had similarly backed off. Zero watched him make a beeline for the drinks, settling himself along the back wall.

"My Lord Regent…"

"I see you never take time off," Zero feigned a sigh. "What have you got for me Diethard?"

"Some minor points regarding the mission to Europe," Diethard handed him a dossier. "Also, a small matter for your perusal."

"Thank you. I'll…"

"Hey Diethard!" It was Tamaki, clutching a bottle of something alcoholic. "Yur missin the…hic!…party."

"Drunk already I see," Diethard's lip curled in distaste.

"Go on, Diethard," Zero waved him away. "Enjoy yourself." As Diethard went rather reluctantly with Tamaki, Zero flicked open the dossier and began scanning the contents, deciding which ones he would give his full attention to and which could wait.

SIS agents seen in Toyko. _Flip. _

Masakado Daidouji arrived in Ruritania. _Flip._

Possible Cornelia sighting in the Phillipines. _Flip._

Faramond U Britannia arrived in France. _Flip._

He paused. He flipped back.

"_Faramond?_" Zero furrowed his brow, reading the report more closely. "_Is it really Faramond? Is my nephew still alive?_" Zero glanced back and forth, then slipped out the side door in a well-practiced escape manoeuvre.

A moment later, Kallen glanced towards the spot where had stood, wondering where he had gone.

**(Sorry for the delay on this one, my research got in the way. For those of you who mentioned the consistency issues, I am aware of this. There seems to be some disagreement on various wikis and fansites regarding spellings, name orders, and certain other details (96****th**** or 98****th**** Emperor, for example). I'll try to keep things consistent as I go. Incidentally, Ruritania was invented by Anthony Hope, and I do not own the rights to it. Then again, I don't own the rights to any of this. **

**Yes, that is Tomoyo Daidoji as created by Clamp (which I do not own). I imported her on the basis that Clamp did the artwork for Code Geass (so it's semi-related), but mostly because it saved me creating yet another OC.**

**No doubt some of you will be wondering about how Kallen got a medal in the name of the Japanese Emperor. I justify this on the basis that Japan is never overtly named as a Republic and that Genbu Kururugi's title is 'Prime Minister', implying that he was Head of Government rather than Head of State. In modern Japan, the Emperor has little or no actual power and is primarily a religious figure. The Emperor has never, in my experience, been mentioned in any anime, except indirectly in an episode of **_**Tenchi Muyo**_** OVA 3, and Tenchi is quite shocked. **

**In the 1st Picture Drama, Lelouch claims that Japan has no Emperor, but I interpreted this as meaning that Japan had no Emperor as **_**he**_** understood it, and that he was also correcting Nunnally, who thought Kururugi was the King of Japan. Her question (in one translation) as to whether the Emperor is the Shinto Pope was actually quite astute. Either way, I don't blame Lelouch for not wanting to have to explain the complexities of Japanese politics. **

**All in all, it's a matter of interpretation, and I chose to interpret it **_**this **_**way.) **


	5. The Nature of Allegiance

**Chapter Five: The Nature of Allegiance**

_Anybody can become angry, that is easy; but to be angry with the right person, and to the right degree, and at the right time, and for the right purpose, and in the right way, that is not within everybody's power, that is not easy._

_Aristotle_

_**Then**_

_**Itsukushima, Japan, August 18th 2010 ATB**_

The war was lost.

It was not yet over. But it was lost. Everyone knew it. But no one wanted to admit it.

Lieutenant-Colonel Kyoshiroh Tohdoh, aged thirty, knew it better than most. Though only a Lieutenant Colonel, he witnessed events from the centre of power. He had watched as the fateful decisions were taken. He had seen the mistakes being made.

And there had been nothing he could do to stop it. For by the time he had known the truth, it was already too late. He had told no one of this, not even those he otherwise trusted, and they were few enough. It would do no good.

Now he was on the lower slopes of a mountain, staring out over the inland sea. The mountain was on Itsukushima, one of the most beautiful places in all of Japan. He could see the famous shrine, with its red _Otorii_ standing on the exposed mud. Normally it would stand in water, the only one of its kind in the country, though the tide was presently low. He could see the shrine buildings, and the village that surrounded it. Once a popular tourist destination, now it was deserted, the inhabitants long since fled. The priests too had bolted, along with whatever holy objects they could carry. Now there was no one there but soldiers, ready to defend it to the last. It was a bolt-hole, a last refuge for Japanese troops to withdraw to, a place of safety.

Or at least that was what Tohdoh wanted the Britannian invaders to think.

There was nothing of military value on the island. It was merely a symbolic target, a distraction. It was something Britannia believed the _primitive_ and _superstitious_ Japanese would spend lives and treasure to protect.

For Itsukushima was the island of the Gods.

His men revered the place. They would not even kill the deer, though food supplies were running short. Even _he _could not help but feel _something_ about the place.

But that did not stop him doing what he had to. The Britannians would come. They might shoot the deer or spare them. They might preserve the famous shrine, or demolish it and build a Pizza Hut in its place. Either way, it could not be prevented.

So Kyoshiroh Tohdoh, or _Kamatari no Tohdoh_, would put it to use.

_Kamatari no Tohdoh_. Tohdoh the weasel. _Usotski no Tohdoh. _Tohdoh the liar. That was what they called him. First at school, then even at the military academy. It was partly for his appearance, and partly his personality. He had never minded it much. He had made a virtue of it.

So now he would tell the biggest lie of his life. It would win him a battle or get him killed. Most likely the latter.

The radio crackled at his hip. Tohdoh lifted it from his belt, thumbed the switch, and held it to his ear.

"Kamatari recieving. Over."

"Saru to Kamatari. Orochi is on his way. Over."

"Understood. Over."

Saru was a thieving monkey, who happened to be a Colonel in the JSDF. Saru had a mission, to remove a certain something. And Orochi was that something.

It was called the EuroSAM MK.1 Hydra. He had seen it. It was long, oblong, low-slung. It could go from road to ready in minutes. It could track up to a hundred targets and engage a dozen of them at once. Its radar could detect even stealth targets at up to six-hundred kilometres, and pluck them from the skies at four-hundred. Even better, said radar was undetectable to existing systems. It was one of the first of a new generation of hybrid weapons made from European and Russian technology. It was magnificent.

The name had confused many of his fellow officers, but Tohdoh knew it well. The Europeans had named their creation for the hydra, a beast with many heads not unlike the _Yamato no Orochi_. Superficially this referred to its ability to strike many targets at once, but the name had a double meaning. It was said of the hydra, that if one cut off the head, the body would die. So it was with advanced SAM networks. Knock out the control centre and radar, and the SAMs themselves were worse the useless.

Not with this beast. Each vehicle was independent, capable of fighting its own corner, while linked in to others in a network. To call it the Hydra was the designers' little joke, for no matter how many heads one cut off, the body would not die. It was a brilliant creation, worth every cent of the five-hundred-million Euro deposit, helping to ensure Japan's safety for years to come.

So Britannia had attacked early. Only one Regiment's worth had been delivered. The crews were not yet trained, so they had played no part in the war. General Katase had some plan for them however. So now Tohdoh had to keep the Britannian advance-guard busy long enough for the twelve units to be moved from Iwakuni.

"_We need an hour or so_" Katase had told him. "_If anyone can do it, you can._"

And an hour or so Kyoshiroh Tohdoh would give his life to provide. At least, if that was what it came down to.

He had only one under-strength Regiment with him, just over four-hundred troops. The machine-gunners, AT Company and AA Company were spread in the foothills behind the neighbourhood of Miyajimachō, the others within the buildings. They had their weapons, but their vehicles and much of their supplies had to be left behind. They were now a cloud of smoke a few miles away, for nothing could be left for the enemy. They had been scuttled, in the manner of troops on the run.

His first lie of the day.

He knew that Britannian troops tended to be impetuous. They tended to chase down fleeing Japanese units, and troops so desperate as to abandon their vehicles were an obvious target.

He scanned his eyes over the opposite shore, watching the roads down which the enemy would come. He could see the pall of black smoke from his burning vehicles. Then he saw something else, a pillar of white smoke rising from among the shore buildings.

His second lie of the day.

It had been worth it, spending a few minutes teaching them a hurriedly-invented system of smoke signals. One pillar of smoke for each Britannian MCV they could see. He only hoped the people of Miyajimaguchi would not pay too high a price for helping him. Something told him it was too much to hope for.

With a few words into his radio, he summoned his four subordinates to him. Within minutes they stood before him. Scar-faced Shogo Asahina, portly Ryoga Senba, blue-haired Kosetsu Urabe, hard-eyed Nagisa Chiba. Of all those who followed him, these were his favourites. These were his holy swords.

"What news, Lieutenant-Colonel?" Asahina was first to speak.

"Hiroshima has been overrun," Tohdoh replied, his tone stoic. "One Advance Guard Battlegroup. They will be upon us in less than an hour." There was a pause as they took this in.

"So that's it," Nagisa sighed. "This is where we die."

"I have no intention of dying here." Tohdoh did not look her in the eyes. "I intend to stand, and I intend to win."

"The Regiment is ready," Senba growled. "Even if we die, we'll take plenty of them with us."

"Did you give them my instructions regarding the Beam Arrows?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. With luck, it might just work."

"Gods willing, Sir_._"

"The Gods help those who help themselves." Tohdoh scanned his eyes over them one last time. There was a good chance he would never see them again. "You have your orders." With that, the quartet headed off to their respective units.

The wait seemed like an eternity. He thought he would go mad with waiting. As the time rolled on, he found himself hoping for the radio to crackle, to be told that the Hydras were safely away, that there was no need to fight. There was nothing like being kept waiting to dull one's ardour.

A crackle. The radio practically flew to his ear.

"Observation reporting. Confirm enemy AG-BG inbound. Over."

"Understood. Switch to combat frequency. Over."

It was beginning. Tohdoh thumbed the dial, then raised the radio to his ear again.

"Enemy inbound. Break for cover now."

"Understood."

A few miles closer to the centre of the island was a radar unit. It provided radar coverage over a radius of three-hundred kilometres. It was the centrepiece of an important Japanese military post, no doubt containing hundreds of soldiers, anti-aircraft positions, and Command-and-Control assets.

His third lie of the day.

A useful snippet of information that one, that Britannian pilots had standing orders to attack any operating radar they could find. It would create the desired effect.

Gripping his trademark _katana_, he darted down the mountainside towards a cluster of boulders just up the slope from Hojuintemple, his command post. Two radio-operators were present, their radios on their backs, handsets in hand. He crouched down beside them.

"Ready all units for air attack. They must stay hidden." The operators nodded and began barking his orders in jargon. The crucial part of the plan was just about upon them. All of it depended on this.

Sure enough, he could hear it coming. A whistling noise from the sky, rising to a roar. Then he could see the sleek arrowhead shape, the triangular wings, the inclined tail fins. The F-24 _White Knight_ cut through the sky like a blade. As it passed overhead, Tohdoh could see the tiny shapes under its wings. He felt his heart slow as it came closer, closer. He could only stare up at it, waiting for the bombs to drop, for the napalm to sear his flesh, for the explosions. Time seemed to slow down. Then it was gone. Tohdoh lived an eternity in what was only a few seconds. His ears strained with trying to hear.

The roar brought him to his senses. He looked back but could see nothing. The explosions must have happened on the next mountain, near Kayatani. His plan might just have worked. He just hoped the crew had made it away in time.

No time for distractions. He turned back towards the water and lifted his binoculars to his eyes. He could see them approaching. A full Advance-Guard Battlegroup would contain infantry, tanks, and APCs, and would nowadays include Knightmare Frames. He saw the tanks taking up position along the shore, ready to provide covering fire. He saw the APCs being loaded onto commandeered ferries at Miyajima-guchi. No doubt the Commander was in a hurry, relishing this chance to prove himself. He could also see military transport boats being loaded.

"_Somebody has some well-connected friends_" he thought. "_Getting landing-craft out here at short notice._"

Three _Albatross_ tactical transports came roaring overhead, their swept-forward wings giving them an avian look. Each one carried a single Squad of six knightmares, loaded into horseshoe-shaped VTOLs, for a full Platoon of eighteen. He could see them sliding from the rear hatches, short wings extending. The VTOLs descended, ready to unload their deadly charges.

"Hand Arrows!" he snapped. " Weapons Free!" The radio-operators barked the orders. Tohdoh heard the whooshes, saw the white pencil-lines as the missiles raced away. He didn't expect any of his old-model heat-seakers to hit, considering the potency of the jamming packages the VTOLs carried.

Sure enough the missiles missed. The VTOLs took up position over the mud, the knightmares sliding down on their rocket anchors. A moment later the VTOLs flew away, their cargo delivered.

The knightmares stood alone on the mud, weapons at the ready. They were ugly, blocky things, parodies of the human form, but Tohdoh could not help but marvel at them. There was something about the human shape, translated into mechanical form. It was, he was certain, an integral part of their power.

The ferries and landing-craft were moving. They could be no more than a few minutes away. He could see them clearly. It had been foolhardy of them, he thought, to come across the water instead of leaving the task to an airborne unit. Their commander must have been more glory-hungry than he thought. Then again, said commander had seen the Japanese fire heat-seekers at his transports, implying that they intended to save their anti-tank missiles for the knightmares. As such, the boats could sail in perfect safety while the knightmares kept the Japanese infantry occupied.

His fourth lie of the day.

"Mortars! Beam Arrows! Weapons Free!"

The knightmares began rolling forward, their landspinners carrying them across the mud and sand as easily as if were an asphalt road. The designers had not intended for mere terrain to impede their creations. As they came, Tohdoh's troops hiding in the buildings of Miyajimachō and the Ferry station let loose their missiles. The knightmares did not react at first, their pilots having concluded that the Japanese had only heat-seeking MANPADS, which posed little threat to them. They were wrong.

The first wave were unguided Rocket-Propelled-Grenades. Tohdoh could see the knightmares faceplates click open, the devices beneath scanning the threat. The knightmares dodged the slow-moving projectiles with desultory effort, and again, and again. The confidence grew, and they became cocky, even as faster missiles came in.

These missiles were dubbed 'Beam Arrows,' for they were beam-riding MANPADS, drawn to their targets by laser beams. No countermeasure could stop them, so long as the beam stayed on the target. By all rights they should have been used on the Albatrosses, but Tohdoh had held them back for a reason.

As the missiles closed, some of the pilots got nervous, slewing their machines sideways, losing the game of 'chicken', their braver comrades laughing at their cowardice. They died laughing as the missiles stuck home. Fully half of the knightmares were blown apart, the explosions punctuated with wet squelches as wreckage thumped into the mud. The survivors went wild, slewing about with screeching landspinners, pouring 30mm rounds into the waterfront buildings. More beam-riders whistled in, but the pilots had realised the threat, and were manoeuvring too violently for the AA troopers to keep the beams on them. The missiles flew wide.

Out on the water, the mortar rounds came whooshing in, white fountains rising where they struck. The boats pressed on, too close to turn back, the local ferry pilots having been told beforehand what would happen to them and their families if they disobeyed. Tohdoh did not allow himself to feel sorry for them. There would be time for regrets later.

One of the mortars struck, the boat coming apart in a bright flash and roar, showering others nearby with hot wreckage. Another was hit, then another. Tohdoh did not have many mortars. Each shot had to count.

On the far shore, the tanks opened up, their guns roaring out a challenge. Shells thudded into the foothills around the shrine, some blowing the nearby buildings apart. The famous Gojunoto pagoda suffered a direct hit, coming apart in a shower of splinters. Tohdoh's men were already relocating, hurrying back through the narrow streets. But others stayed behind, firing on the knightmares with assault rifles and RPGs, perhaps hoping for one last kill before they died. It had the right effect, as the knightmares saw them and raced in for the kill.

"AT Company! Weapons Free! Mines ready! Detonate on my mark!"

With a sound like rushing water, the heavier anti-tank missiles sped away. Even as the salvo raced on, Tohdoh knew that his troops were gathering up their weapons and relocating. They were well-trained, and knew the importance of relocating regularly.

The boats were coming close. They carried two full mechanized infantry companies with their vehicles. That meant about four-hundred troops and forty vehicles, not counting losses. This was going to be tricky.

The knightmares had mounted the waterfront, blazing away at the surrounding buildings. He could not wait any longer.

"Mark!"

The waterfront erupted in fire. The mines planted in the foremost buildings detonated, blowing apart the remaining knightmares even as the landing-craft came in. A cloud of dust and smoke hung over the town long after the sound of the explosions faded. On the opposite shore, there were more explosions. Tohdoh glanced quickly through his binoculars, noting with some satisfaction that several tanks had been hit. With the Britannian fire-support reduced, he might stand a chance.

The landing-craft slid easily onto the mud, forward hatches dropping open, disgorging troops and vehicles. As the infantry swarmed onto the sand, the Sumitomo M-55 machine guns positioned in the foothills opened up. Dubbed Sumis by the troops, they covered the beach in a hail of death, downing the attackers by the dozen. The survivors threw themselves down, crawling forward as the APCs rolled past, their turret guns returning fire.

"Mortars all out!" called one of the radio-operators, his voice barely audible over the din. Tohdoh cursed inwardly. There was little he could do now, for once the fighting was inside Miyajimachō he would not be able to see it from his vantage point. There was little the AT company could do besides keep the tanks busy, or maybe pick off an APC or two on their own initiative.

If only there was some way he could fight. _If only he had a knightmare._

Gesturing at the radio-operators to stay put, Tohdoh slung the katana over his back and headed off down the slope. He reached the outermost buildings a dead run, glancing about for any sign of his troops. As he picked his way through the shell of a ruined building, he spotted a flash of grey.

Without needing to think about it he ducked back the way he had come. Slowly, cautiously, he peered round the bullet-holed wall, drawing his sidearm. He saw a lone Britannian soldier, clad in grey armour, moving slowly through the wreckage, his beetle-black visor looking elsewhere. Tohdoh brought up his sidearm, deciding that if he was marked to die, he might as well take at least one with him. As the soldier crept forward, Tohdoh aimed and fired. The gun cracked twice, sending two bullets into the unsuspecting target. Whether by chance or divine favour, both struck home, and the soldier slumped to the ground.

Tohdoh crept around the wall and into the gutted building, eyes and ears straining for any sign of danger, though he could hear little over the rattle of gunfire. Eventually he reached the fallen soldier. Crouching nearby, he scanned his eyes over the corpse. Judging by the blood and lack of movement, this one wasn't getting up again. Putting such thoughts from his mind, Tohdoh slid the single grenade from the soldier's belt, attaching it to his own before reaching for the dropped assault rifle. No sense in letting good weaponry go to waste.

He heard something behind him, and his heart skipped a beat. On reflex he spun and dived, trying to bring up his gun as he saw another grey-armoured soldier, assault rifle raised to fire. He felt time slow down, and knew he was about to die.

The soldier spasmed, his body suddenly perforated with holes, falling sideways out of sight, Tohdoh's own shots slamming into the wall where his torso had been. Tohdoh managed to stop firing, even as he tried to calm his racing heart. After a few seconds, his saviour appeared from around the wall. It was Nagisa Chiba, carrying an assault rifle. Their eyes met. They did not speak, for no words were necessary. He acknowledged her with a nod, then snatched up the assault rifle and crept up to the opposite wall, in the direction of the gunfire. Chiba moved to join him.

"Report."

"We're holding them. We've knocked out half the APCs and the rest are bogged down on the waterfront. But we're running out of RPGs and bombs. We may be able to get the rest but they've got us pinned."

"Very well," Tohdoh made his decision. "We need to move up to the waterfront, clearing a path to bring up the Sumis. We'll catch them in a crossfire."

"Just the two of us?" Chiba gave him an odd look.

"Did you expect to get out of this alive Captain Chiba?"

"No, Lieutenant-Colonel Sir."

"Watch my back then." Tohdoh moved out, heading down a narrow back street, Chiba close behind. All he could hear was gunfire and explosions. He could smell missile propellant, wood smoke, and roasting meat. It made his stomach growl, though he knew what it was.

He glanced out into the street. Though wide enough for tourists to pass easily, it was too narrow for an APC or Tank to navigate. That boon was limiting the APCs mobility, and offering a chance of victory. Seeing no enemies, he sprinted across, glancing back as he reached the other side. Sure enough, Chiba was behind him. Reliable Nagisa.

He couldn't see much, but Tohdoh estimated that the waterfront wasn't far. He fell back into the practiced routine as he moved down the side street. Halt, look, look, move. Halt, look, look, move. Halt, look, look, move. Cover to cover in short bursts. Stay low where possible. No more than five seconds in the open.

He lost track of time as he dashed through the narrow passages and over the rubble. It was only as he reached the waterfront that he was able to take stock. He estimated that he was about half-way between Toyokuni shrine, where the Britannian troops seemed to be concentrated, and the ferry station. He scanned his eyes south down the beach. Chiba had been right. It was littered with the burnt-out hulks of APCs. He could see infantry using the wrecks as cover, popping up and firing from time to time. Glancing to his left, he could see green-clad Japanese troops doing likewise.

No more time. This had to end. He looked east towards the slopes, where he knew the machine guns were. The route looked clear, but he could not see everything. Deciding that it was now or never, he barked the orders into his radio. Within minutes, he could see the machine gun teams dashing down the slops and into the first line of buildings. He glanced behind him, and saw that the ferry station was still holding out. There was a chance.

A flash of grey. He saw a Britannian soldier emerge from the wreckage. He seemed to have noticed the oncoming machine gun teams, as he readied his rifle to fire. Tohdoh squeezed off a burst, knocking the unfortunate flat. But more of them were appearing. With all the smoke and dust, he was having trouble judging the exact range. He heard Nagisa snarl a curse, as she flicked the dial to full auto and let loose. The chattering of the rifle deafened his right ear, but he ignored it. He saw small puffs of dust and splinters where the bullets struck, the grey troopers dropping back down to avoid the murderous fire. Tohdoh set his own rifle to single mode, saw another grey head pop up, squeezed off a shot. There was a spray of blood and the head was gone. But other heads were appearing, this time facing him. He and Chiba ducked down as shot whistled overhead.

Tohdoh cursed inwardly. He _had_ to stop those men, or the machine gunners would be ambushed. Then he remembered the pilfered grenade. He pawed at his belt, found it, pulled the pin and tossed.

That same long pause. It was only five seconds, but it felt more like five hours.

An explosion. Screams. Tohdoh looked up again, and saw no grey heads.

A shell struck the waterfront wreckage less than fifty metres away, the force of the blast knocking them both to the ground and showering them with dust and splinters. After a few moments Tohdoh shook his head to clear it, his ears ringing and his vision blurring at the edges. He saw green figures come close, and saw that they were the machine gunners. Unable to hear their shouting, he could only gesture frantically at the ground until they understood and began to set up. He forced himself to his feet, Nagisa doing likewise, and scanned about for targets. The Britannians on the beach were still firing, still unaware of what was coming. The machine guns were ready. Their crews needed no prompting from him.

The machine guns chattered. Tohdoh watched in morbid fascination, his eyes following the tracer rounds as they lanced towards the unsuspecting infantry, knowing that for every bright streak a hundred bullets flew invisibly. The soldiers on the beach began to die, even as they noticed the threat.

Shells tore into the waterfront as the remaining tanks on the other shore redoubled their efforts. Tohdoh threw himself over the wreckage, pushing Nagisa before him, falling with her onto the hard street, deafened and blinded by the onslaught. All he could feel was the titanic crash of every shell as it struck. Again and again and again, dust covering the both of them as what remained of the buildings were blasted to rubble.

Then Tohdoh wondered if he had gone deaf, for he heard nothing. He blinked, shook his head, slapped his temple with one free hand. Slowly his hearing began to return, and he could hear shouting. Shouting in Japanese.

It was Senba and Asahina running towards him, grabbing him by the arms, helping him to his feet, doing likewise for Chiba. As the ringing quieted, he realised that he could hear no gunfire. Instead he heard cheers.

It was over.

As he stepped away from his followers, the ringing finally fading from his ears, Tohdoh stared numbly at the devastation around him. The Toyokuni and Saiwai shrines were wrecked, as was Komyoin temple. All he could see were the skeletons of buildings, streets cratered, the lower slopes pock-marked and blasted. Blood trickled in narrow rivulets, the smell cutting through the air.

Miyajimachō had been destroyed.

"Ah well," Senba noticed his leader's mood. "The Otorii's still standing." And it was.

"Too bad though," Urabe commented, with poor timing. "I wanted to see the world's biggest rice scoop. Damn Britannians."

Tohdoh did not have time to dwell on it. One of the radio-operators came running, holding out the handset. Tohdoh took it.

"Kamatari reporting."

"Katase here. Report."

"Britannian AGBG is withdrawing with heavy losses. Miyajima is condition…what's left of it, that is."

"Well done Tohdoh, well done indeed." The General's voice was low, but Tohdoh could sense the emotion in it. "Your father would be proud."

"What of Saru, General?" Tohdoh asked, no longer able to contain himself. "Is Orochi away?" There was a pause.

"General?"

"Orochi is slain, Tohdoh," Katase eventually replied. "Aircraft caught them in the open. They were all destroyed." Tohdoh tried to speak, tried to ask what had went wrong, how this could have happened, but the words caught in his throat. Not that he needed to ask, for he knew what must have happened. He felt the euphoria blow away, like so much smoke in a heavy wind.

"Forgive me, General." It was all he could do to keep his tone level. "I've let you down."

"No Tohdoh," the reply came quickly. "You did your part. Now get your men out of there before anyone else gets killed."

Tohdoh returned the handset and stood where he was, waving the radio-operator away. A Sergeant by the name of Mizuno rushed up to give him the roll-call result, which he received with barely a word. He stood with his sword point on the ground, in the classic pose. Though he stood like a proud warrior, he could not raise his head.

"_Was it all for nothing then?_" he wondered. "_Was there any point to this?_"

He should have been dead. Those aircraft should've bombed _him_, and the precious SAMs would've driven to safety while they headed back to rearm. That had been the plan. _He_ was supposed to be the target.

That damned Britannian CO was to blame. He should've called in those air strikes to support his beleaguered infantry, blown the Japanese troops to kingdom come. It was the right thing to do under the circumstances, and Tohdoh would have done so himself.

But he hadn't. And so Kyoshiroh Tohdoh had won the victory. A victory that left him with less than a hundred survivors. A victory that tasted of ash and blood.

"Sir!" Urabe's shout brought him from his sad reverie. "We've gathered the prisoners. What do we do with them?"

"Where are they?" Urabe led him through the wreckage to a cluster of thirty-two grey-armoured Britannian infantry. They sat disconsolately on the ground, their armour covered in mud and dust. Their weapons were piled a few metres away, and his men were keeping close watch. A few of them glanced in his direction as he came near. They had the look of men who did not expect to live much longer.

"Who commands here!" he barked. One of the prisoners, a man of about his own age with mid-brown hair and hard, tanned features, stood up to face him. Tohdoh could see the air of authority about him, and knew there was no falsehood in it.

"Captain Stern, 5th Mechanized Infantry Regiment, Prince Schniezel's Own."

"Prince Schniezel?" Tohdoh raised an eyebrow. "Was he responsible for this lunacy?"

"His Highness is not with us," the Captain replied sourly. "We are commanded by Colonel the Lord Josiah Gottwald."

"I don't know of him."

"You may as well shoot us now," Captain Stern went on. "It's what your men want, and we have little reason to go back." Tohdoh glanced at the troops guarding the prisoners. They were dirty, hungry, and tired. Though most of their faces were expressionless, their minds mostly elsewhere, others were twisted in hatred. Hatred for what had been done to Japan, and what was still being done, hatred only magnified by the damage done to the town. He did not doubt that _they_ at least would not mind obliging the Captain.

"Will this Colonel Gottwald have you shot to cover his incompetence?" Tohdoh asked, genuinely surprised. "I should think your Colonel has enough problems without executing loyal soldiers."

"It is not his judgement we fear," Stern replied glumly. "But that of Prince Schniezel, for we have let him down this day." Tohdoh realised that he meant it. None of the captured Britannians would look their captors in the eye. He could tell by looking that they felt the same way.

"The hell!" Urabe snapped, disbelieving. "What do you care what some snot-nosed Prince thinks!" _That_ finally caused the Britannians to look up, and the hostility in their gazes actually made Urabe take a step back.

"You do not understand," Stern replied coldly. "Because you are Japanese."

"_I _am Japanese," Tohdoh interjected. "And I understand you perfectly. But I am not going to kill you." He gestured towards the ferry dock. "There's one ferry left intact. Take it and go." Japanese and Britannian alike looked at Tohdoh in disbelief, but his gaze did not waver.

"I will not dirty my hands any more than I have to," he went on. "Your deaths will not contribute anything." Stern gave him an appraising look.

"It's too bad you weren't born Britannian," he commented. "A victory like this warrants a knighthood at least."

"Go your way," Tohdoh replied, allowing just a hint of threat into his tone. Stern returned his gaze, saluted, and stalked off after his men. Tohdoh and his troops watched them for a few minutes as they clambered onto the one remaining ferry.

"What are your orders sir?" Nagisa Chiba broke the spell.

"Take what can be carried and head south," Tohdoh replied peremptorily, ignoring the out-of-character pity in her eyes. "We must be gone from here quickly." He turned to walk away.

"Hail Tohdoh!" cried one of the soldiers. "Hail Tohdoh the weasel!"

"_Kamatari no Tohdoh! Banzai!_" the soldiers roared.

"No!" Senba shouted, halting the cheering. "_Kiseki no Tohdoh_!"

"_Kiseki no Tohdoh_! _Banzai!_" The shouts echoed through the ruined town. Tohdoh did not look back. He could not bear the shame of it. For the price of over three-hundred brave soldiers, and a town in ruins, he had won himself a new name.

_Kiseki no Tohdoh._

Tohdoh of miracles.

_**

* * *

**__**Vienna, Capital of the KuK Federation, EU, May 2nd 2011 ATB**_

It was a warm night.

Magnus Constantian, aged 17, glanced back and forward along the street. He was nervous. He did not often feel anything, but that night he was nervous.

"You look like you're in a resistance film" came a chuckling voice from behind him. "Really Magnus, there's nothing to fear here."

"I'm not so sure," Magnus replied, his colourless eyes flicking across the street, alert for any threat, any sign of danger.

"Come on Magnus." Lukas Gunner, his friend of nearly eight years, strolled out from behind him. "No one's going to attack us, not here."

"It's not the Japanese I'm worried about." There was a small but substantial Japanese community in Vienna, mostly middle class types who had cleared out either before or during the Britannian invasion. They tended to live quietly and respectably, gaining work permits and taking on the same sorts of jobs they had held before. But there were also the unfortunates, those who were not so wealthy, not so skilled, or simply unable to adapt. They were the so-called _ghetto_ Japanese. Most of them lived away from the locals, in the unused housing estates built for generations that were never born, recreating their lost homeland in ghettoes of the mind.

All at once, Magnus caught sight of them. They moved furtively, in ones and twos, from point to point in a well-practised approach, not following an apparent pattern. They were making a considerable effort not to be noticed. Magnus waited a few minutes, tension rising within him. In their own time, they each headed through the same doorway, on the opposite side of the street and about fifty meters down.

"What can you see?" Lukas asked, leaning around his shoulder to get a better look.

"Nothing," Magnus narrowed his eyes. "Nobody on the door. Looks like we can walk straight in."

"Odd that," Lukas remarked. "No security?"

"They're a bunch of amateurs," Magnus sneered. "Probably some sort of political or resistance meeting."

"It's not illegal. If it's a political meeting, I doubt they'd turn anyone away."

"But if it's the resistance…" Magnus looked his friend in the eyes. Lukas held his gaze for a long time.

"It's not our business if Akiko wants to get involved in something like that," Magnus glanced up at his friend. "So what _did_ you think it might be?"

"I…" Lukas paused, feeling foolish. "I…thought it might be drugs."

"Drugs? Akiko?" Magnus snorted. "I can't see it."

"Don't be so sure," Lukas's countenance darkened. "This new drug, _Refrain_, is becoming very popular among the refugees."

"What does it do?"

"It's not addictive," Lukas paused, furrowing his brow. "Not in the usual sense. It allows the user to relive their memories. From what we know, it's hit-and-miss whether you get good or bad memories."

"A bit sophisticated, for a street narcotic," Magnus mused. "Could it have been developed for interrogation?"

"It might have been." Lukas's family were low-ranking Austrian aristocracy, possessed of little status and less money. They were closely involved with a youth charity, however, for which narcotics were a constant issue. This had left Lukas with an encyclopaedic knowledge of drugs and an aspiration to be a medical researcher.

"Anyway, I think this is our best chance." Magnus glanced up and down the street one last time, they scurried across to the other side, Lukas close behind. They found no one on the door, just a small foyer and a series of doors, one of which was ajar, and the sound of fast footsteps was audible from behind it. Magnus and Lukas glanced at one another, behind them, then Magnus cautiously eased the door open. When no challenge resulted, they headed along a dark corridor, coming out in what appeared to be a large storage room.

Magnus stared in horrified disbelief. There were around two dozen of them, mostly refugees but also a few residents identifiable by the quality of their clothes. They wandered back and forward, each play-acting to a script only they knew. It all looked so harmless, so whimsical, like some sort of drama class.

"_Minna!_" a slim well-dressed girl of about his own age was practically bouncing with excitement. "It came! They accepted me! Now my dream can come true!"

"I miss you, Yuriko," a young man was speaking into an imaginary phone. "When will I see you again?"

"You'll come, won't you? It'll be so much fun if you do."

"Japan! JAPAN!"

"I made it! I'm going to Tokyo University!"

Magnus could not believe what he was seeing. It seemed so harmless, but there was something _wrong_ about it, something that made him feel sick inside. He was not accustomed to such emotions.

"What is this?" he asked, more to himself than anyone else.

"_Refrain_," Lukas growled. "It seems I was wrong. We'd better…" Then he froze. They both froze, for they had both seen.

"_Otouto-chan!_" It was a girl with black hair half-way down her back, moving across the front of the group, glancing back and forth as though looking for someone. "Takato-chan! Come here, it's time for lunch!"

"Magnus! No!" Lukas's hand snapped out to grab his friend's shoulder, but it was too late. The albino was already sprinting across the floor towards the girl. The girl they knew so well.

"Akiko!" He stopped, arms-length from her. She did not seem aware of him. He could see her eyes. Though she smiled, and seemed more animated than he had ever seen her, her eyes were blank, glazed-over. She was in another world, a world of pleasant memories, of happier times. A world in which _he _did not exist.

It hurt. It hurt to see her like that. It hurt to believe that, for her at least, happiness lay in the past, in times and places that were and could never be again. For Magnus Constantian, there was no such option.

"Akiko," he croaked, his voice breaking, though he did not understand why. "Akiko, wake up." Behind him, only a few metres away, Lukas watched his friend through sorrowful eyes. His fears had come true, and he had been unable to protect his friend.

"Akiko," Magnus reached gingerly for the oblivious girl. "Akiko…_onegai-shimasu._"

"I really don't get it," Akiko went on, her demeanour changing suddenly. "Why would Lukas-kun want to be friends with someone like Magnus? I mean, he's so _cold_. He never talks to anyone else unless they talk to him, and he never smiles or laughs. Lukas-kun needs a better friend than that. He's like a _machine_."

Magnus did not know what this feeling was called. He did not know what any of them were for certain. It was like having a pain somewhere in one's body, a stomach-ache of sorts, but with no way of knowing what was causing it.

He only knew that it hurt. Her words hurt him. And he did not understand why.

"Magnus," Lukas put a hand on his shoulder. "Magnus, there's nothing we can do."

Both heard the sound of fast footsteps. Magnus and Lukas looked up to see a Japanese youth, of about their own age, enter the room at a run.

"_Kuso_! They're all…who the hell are you!" He looked at the two boys with a mixture of suspicion and adrenalin-fuelled fury.

"Calm down, my friend," Lukas turned on the charm. "We're not here to cause trouble."

"_Gaijin_!" the youth snapped, pulling a small handgun from his coat pocket. Magnus felt his hackles rise

"Now, now," Lukas raised his hands to placate the man. "Just put that away. We don't want violence."

"The hell you don't!" the youth snapped back, pointing the gun at Magnus. "Your kind will never leave us in peace!"

"Tanaka!" came a voice from the stairs. "They're coming! They're…" another youth, also Japanese, halted at the bottom of the stairs. "_Nani!_"

"It's all right," Lukas protested, looking a tad strained. "We just want Akiko."

"Akiko…Akiko-chan!" the young man looked at the oblivious girl then back at the pair. "What do you want with her!"

"Nothing!" Magnus snapped, his nerves fraying.

"We're her classmates!" Lukas insisted. "She just left without telling anyone! Everyone was worried!"

"Classmates?" the man narrowed his eyes. "Are you…Lukas Gunner?"

"Yes. And this is Magnus Constantian."

"Tanaka!" the man turned his attention to his companion, who was no less agitated than before. "Put the gun away!"

"Why! Why trust them! Trusting the Gendarmes got us into this mess!"

"They're her classmates idiot!" the red-haired man snapped. "The ones she told us about! They're on our side!"

The man, evidently named Tanaka, glanced from his comrade to the two youths, and back again, evidently uncertain.

"Tanaka," the man snarled. "Just for once, listen to me!" Tanaka paused, as if coming to a decision, then lowered the gun.

"Jiro Yamada," the man touched his chest to indicate himself. "And yes, I'm with the resistance."

"So I suspect," Lukas gave him an appraising look. "But what're you doing in Vienna?"

"I came on behalf of Naoto Kozuki, who fights in Japan." Yamada glanced at Akiko. "Please believe me. I knew nothing about this."

"So you say," Magnus narrowed his eyes.

"_Bakemono_!" Tanaka snapped, evidently offended. "You think we'd sell Refrain to our own! Do you know what it does to them!"

"Tanaka, cool it!" Yamada's words were enough to calm his companion. "I'm pleased to meet you both, but you two picked a bad time to come visiting." As if to punctuate his comment, a low rumble could be heard out in the street, along with what sounded like car alarms.

"What's that?" Lukas looked up in consternation. "Sounds like a riot."

"It _is_ a riot!" Tanaka snarled. "It's the Rightists having a cocktail party! _Molotov_ cocktails!"

"What about the Gendarmes?" Magnus spoke up. "What did you mean?"

"They used us as bait!" Tanaka snapped back. "They tipped us off, but it got brought forward a week. This lot weren't supposed to be here!" he gestured at the Refrain victims, who continued their capers unawares.

"It doesn't matter any more!" Yamada turned to Lukas and Magnus. "We need to…"

There was a rumble of feet on the stairs. Before any of them could even move they were piling out into the room. There were seven of them, all of them wearing the heavy boots and black jackets that identified them as members of a far-right group. Some of them had knives, others iron bars or what appeared to be table legs. Their eyes were hard and hungry, they were in the mood for violence.

"Well, well," the one in the middle, evidently their leader, spoke in a mocking tone. "What have we here? Two Japanese, a race-traitor, a mutant, and a bunch of druggies." His cronies snickered nastily.

"I would know by what right you name another man traitor," Lukas spoke up, voice clear and confident, eyes angry. "Unlike you, I am a faithful subject of Emperor Karl Franz Habsburg. _Gott Erhalte den Kaiser_."

"Yes you are," the thug growled back. "Like all the bluebloods, you choose _der heilige Kaiser_ over your own race. You choose _them_," he pointed an accusing finger at the Japanese, "over your own race. That makes you a race-traitor."

"There's no need for violence," Yamada spoke up. "Britannia is our common enemy."

"So _you_ say!" the thug snapped. "You parasites started this war!" The others growled in agreement.

"_Kuso!_" Tanaka whipped out his gun again. The thugs tensed, readying their weapons.

"_Dame_!" Yamada struck out at Tanaka's arm, knocking it sideways. The gun cracked, the bullet thudding into the wall. The strange spell was broken, and the thugs lunged. Something changed inside Magnus. He felt the troublesome feelings evaporate, leaving only cold calculation. There was no need to think, no need to feel. One of the thugs, a bald-headed degenerate with tattooed arms, came at him with drawn knife. Magnus felt himself moving before he even thought about it, the knife rushing past him. He could hear shouting and the sounds of struggle. His body seemed to move by itself as he brought one clenched fist forward into his assailant's stomach. He drove his other fist into the skinhead's mouth, again, and again. The skinhead staggered backwards and fell down, spitting out blood and teeth. He felt a twinge of satisfaction. He no longer regretted Lukas brow-beating him into taking up fencing, even if he didn't have a weapon. The training had made his body quick, and his mind keen.

He glanced around. Lukas was struggling with the leader, trying to wrest his iron bar away. Yamada was struggling with two of them, and somehow managing to hold his own. Two more were on Tanaka, trying to pull the gun from his hand. The gun cracked again, and one of the attackers doubled-over, shrieking in pain. That left…

Something struck Magnus in the back, pitching him to the floor. He rolled over to see a boy standing over him, maybe a couple of years his junior, carrying an iron bar and looking ready to kill. He tried to scramble away but the boy struck first, bringing the bar down on his stomach. He felt his body spasm in pain as the boy hit him again and again. He knew that if he didn't do something, he was going to die.

He scrabbled about with his hands, searching for something, anything. As the boy rained blows down on him, his right hand curled around something narrow and hard. Beyond thought, beyond reason, Magnus lunged upwards, even as the boy raised his weapon for another blow.

The blade slid neatly between his ribs. The boy screamed, the dark glee falling away to be replaced with a look of pain and shock. The bar fell from his hands as he fell over backwards, writhing and screaming as blood turned his t-shirt red.

Magnus looked around again. One of Yamada's assailants, a shaven-headed thug with a skull tattoo on his shoulder, looked up and saw the dying boy. With a cry of rage, he let go of Yamada and charged at Magnus. Magnus tried to get up, but the man's fist caught him in the head and sent him back down. From where he was, he could see Lukas collapse to the ground, the leader stamping and kicking. He saw Tanaka lying prone, his own assailants heading to join their leader.

He tried to get up, to go to his friend's assistance, but the tattooed thug grabbed him and flung him against the wall. His vision blurred with the shock of the impact. The man was upon him again, swinging him against wall again and again, punching him with his free hand. He got a glimpse of the thug's eyes, and saw nothing there. Nothing but rage. He heard the wet crunch as his arm broke. That heavy fist caught him in the head, blacking out his left eye.

The thug suddenly relented, allowing him to collapse to the floor. His vision blurred. There was a ringing sound in his ears. But he could see Lukas on the ground, three of them kicking and stamping at his prone form. The Japanese were coming out of their trances, cowering in terror against the opposite wall.

He felt a hand grasp his hair, pulling his head up and around. He could see the face of his tormentor clearly now. It was a face not much older than his own, cold and pitiless, the eyes burning with bloodlust. The thug drew his knife, and held the blade up so that Magnus could see it.

"You're gonna get it!" he growled, and Magnus could have sworn he saw tears in the thug's eyes. "This is what you get for…!"

Gunshots rang out. The thug pitched backwards, letting got of his hair, blood flying from the holes in his torso. Magnus slumped back down, and found that he could not get up. There were more gunshots, heavy footsteps and shouting. He tried to speak, to call for Lukas, but no sounds came out. His body would not obey him.

Darkness.

_**

* * *

**__**Now**_

_**Narita Mountain Base, Japan, June 26th 2018 ATB**_

Lelouch strode into his office, the door sliding shut behind him. His mind was racing. He felt enthused, truly alive, for the first time since the end of the Rebellion.

"_Faramond? Could he really be alive?_"

He sat down in the high-backed swivel chair, dropping the dossier on the desk, before slipping off the mask and returning his attention to the documents. He scanned his eyes over them, taking everything in. He removed a surveillance photograph from the bundle and slid it into the scanner. In a few moments the grainy image appeared on his computer screen, distorting and changing as the system cleaned the image.

It was him. That curly brown hair arranged in a queue at his neck, those eyes, that face so reminiscent of his mother, but with a hint of his father. He was certain. There could be no doubt. It all fitted.

"_Faramond._"

He hadn't seen his nephew in over eight years, not since he and his sister had been sent to Japan. He remembered him though, the images and feelings flooding back.

"_My cute little nephew. You're still alive._"

He felt tears prick his eyes. He had _loved _Faramond, as he might a younger brother. Not as much as he had loved Nunally, but loved nonetheless. He had trusted some of his siblings; Oddyseus, Schniezel, Cornelia, Euphemia. He had even loved them, at least back then. But with Faramond, trust had never been an issue. He had never been a threat to anyone. He was too gentle, too afraid, too _soft._

And now he was with Schniezel.

"_He might know,_" Lelouch thought, his chest tightening. "_He might know where Nunally is. He's my best hope of finding her!_"

"You look as though you've seen a ghost." The voice took Lelouch by surprise, so distracted had he been, but he knew who it was. The smell of pizza gave her away.

"I may well have done," he admitted, turning on the chair to regard CC. She lounged on a sofa just across the office from him, open pizza box on the coffee table within easy reach. She was wearing a figure-hugging black dress that left little to the imagination. Lelouch could make out the Black Knights emblem emblazoned across the chest. "My nephew, Faramond."

"Ah yes," CC turned her head to look straight at him. "Didn't you dress him up as a cat once?"

"Yes, we did." Lelouch chuckled at the memory. As a party favour for Euphemia's ninth birthday party, the last one he had ever attended, he and Nunally had persuaded Faramond to wear a cat costume. It had, to say the least, gone down _very _well.

"Wasn't Milly present at said party?" CC wondered aloud. Lelouch narrowed his eyes. He had suspected for some time that CC had lived in St Darwin Boulevard. She knew too much for there to be any other explanation. But if she had ever lived there, he couldn't remember her.

"In any case, I'll…" there was a chime from the door. Lelouch turned to his laptop and checked the monitor. It was Kallen. Sighing with relief, he unlocked the door.

"Hey," Kallen commented as she entered. "You're missing the party."

"So are you," CC retorted languidly. "Birthday girl."

"Oh," Kallen's face fell. "It's _you._"

"Now, now," Lelouch interjected, hoping to defuse the looming catfight. "We're all friends here."

"So what about it," Kallen returned her attention to Lelouch. "Or has something come up, _as usual._"

"Something has," he admitted, giving her a mischievous smile. "But don't worry. Zero won't be missing the party, will you Zero?"

"No indeed!" Kallen gaped as a side door slid open and in swept Zero, caped and masked.

"But…" she spluttered, doing a double take. "But you're…"

"Yes! I am…Zero!" the doppelganger proclaimed with a characteristic flourish.

"At least, you are when I'm not Zero," Lelouch added. "Show her."

"I will," Kallen gaped like a goldfish as the faux Zero removed his mask, revealing the face of Lelouch Lamperouge underneath.

"Good day, Lelouch," Lelouch was grinning from ear to ear.

"Good day to you, Lelouch," the doppelganger bowed, smiling just slightly. Kallen could not help but think she had seen that smile somewhere before.

"Sayoko here will take my place where necessary," Lelouch said, having derived sufficient amusement from Kallen's shock. "Enjoy the party."

"Thank you, Master Lelouch," 'Zero' slipped the mask back on and swept out of the office.

"Sayoko?" Kallen looked bewildered. "Your maid? Is she from a ninja clan or something?"

"Close enough. Anyway, since you're here there's something I want you to see." Lelouch tapped at the keypad, and the spy-camera image of Faramond from the dossier appeared on the main screen behind him. Kallen inclined her head to look at it.

"And he is?"

"Prince Faramond u Britannia."

"I've never heard of him."

"That's no surprise. He's not that well known." Lelouch scanned through his collection of pictures. One of them caught his eye. With a click, he transferred it to the main screen. It showed an expensively-dressed girl of about nine or ten years, glomping a younger child of indeterminate gender, who happened to be wearing a cat costume.

"And who's that!" Kallen laughed aloud. CC glanced up from the sofa and smirked.

"A younger Princess Euphemia, and a younger Faramond," Lelouch smiled at her reaction. It occurred to him that he didn't know _why _he had shown it to her. It had happened without him really thinking about it. Maybe he just _wanted_ to share something with her.

"Really!" Kallen was visibly shocked. "How did you get something like that?"

"It was found," Lelouch lied, having already concocted an explanation, "among Princess Euphemia's personal effects."

"Oh," Kallen's humour faltered. "So…what's this about."

"It's about him," Lelouch brought back the spy-camera shot. "He's apparently been sent to Schniezel to help him with the negotiations. I mean to kidnap him."

"Kidnap him?" Kallen eyed him questioningly. "That won't be easy. Not if he's near Schniezel."

"So you can't do it then?" Lelouch's eyes sparkled with mischief. "You, the dreaded Red Lotus, refusing the challenge?"

"Don't joke!" Kallen reddened with annoyance. "Schniezel's got the Round Table with him!"

"I know," Lelouch's manner concealed his real feelings on _that_ little matter. "At least three of them. But if you can't handle them…"

"I can handle them!" Kallen snapped. "I'm just saying it'll be tricky that's all. And you still haven't told us how you're going to get the _Ikaruga_ and our knightmares into the EU. You know they won't allow it."

Lelouch knew the problem. Before the advent of the Knightmare frame, Britannia's military supremacy had been based on overwhelming air and sea power. The EU had answered this with the development of a nigh-on impenetrable air defence network. With satellites and advanced sensors capable of detecting targets in any number of ways, combined with missiles faster and more manoeuvrable than any aircraft, even the stealth planes so beloved of the Imperial Air Force had been of little avail.

It would make sneaking into the EU very difficult. Taking the _Ikaruga_ would be out of the question, unless they could disguise it somehow. Lelouch had no illusions about what he was up against in Brussels. For negotiations to be taking place, Schniezel would have had to have won over any number of EU officials, promising them God-knows-what in return for their surrender. The Black Knights could expect the defences to be online and active.

"I've a little deception in mind," he admitted, smiling a Cheshire-Cat smile.

"It'll have to be good," Kallen insisted. "Schniezel's no dope, and you outsmarted him once already. He'll be cautious."

"Of course," Lelouch went on smiling. "In fact, I'm counting on it."

_**

* * *

**__**Zenda, Ruritania, EU, June 27th 2018 ATB**_

"It's been a long time, old friend." Magnus could sense his friend's warmth and good humour, despite the distance and the comm-screen. "Too long."

"I'm surprised that the Alpine Institute let you make this call," Magnus managed a slight smile. "I thought your work was secret."

"It is," Lukas's eyes sparkled, and Magnus saw something of the youth he once knew. "But it's all right, since I'm making this call from EUROMED Headquarters, which isn't secret, and so long as I don't talk about my work."

"You know I would never ask you to," Magnus replied. "But then why are you calling me?"

"To see how you were doing." There was a hint of reproach in his friend's tone. "You never showed up at the reunion."

"I've been busy," Magnus cursed inwardly. He had hoped that Lukas would not bring the matter up.

"The same old excuse," Lukas chuckled. "Never mind, I'm not really one for parties either. Or was it something else?"

"There is a war on, or rather there was until a few days ago." Magnus was annoyed, but his friend was right on both counts.

"That's why I called," Lukas's smile faded. "I thought you might need someone to talk to."

"What's there to say? Britannia has us by the proverbial, and it'll all be over in a week or so." Magnus' lip curled in disgust, a rare show of emotion. "We swore we'd smash Britannia once and for all. We failed."

"Don't blame yourself Magnus. I heard about…the campaign. I know it wasn't your fault. We all know."

"It's not that." Magnus did not like to think about the EU's last attempt to liberate Egypt from Britannian occupation. A campaign in which he had played a not-inconsiderable role.

"Isn't it?" Lukas cocked his head. "You know the new French government let that little idiot Freron out of prison."

"What does it matter?" Magnus paused, fighting down the feelings that he did not understand. "I'm a soldier, after all. I exist to obey orders."

"That's not true," Lukas insisted. "You're not a machine Magnus. I've told you so a thousand times."

"And I heard it a thousand times more from the Counsellors." Another unwanted memory. More feelings he didn't quite understand. "In any case, how is everyone?"

"Elise made quite the hostess, as ever," Lukas grinned. "Josh couldn't make it, on account of his nephew's _Bar Mitzvah._ Akiko was there though." Even through the video-link, Magnus spotted the look his friend was giving him.

"And?"

"She was rather disappointed," Lukas's eyes sparkled. "I think she wanted to see you."

Magnus felt his stomach clench. It hurt to be reminded of her, of what had happened all those years ago.

"It's best if I don't see her."

"You haven't spoken to her since it happened," Lukas pressed. "I think you're being hard on her."

"Not on her," Magnus replied sourly.

"Just one last thing. Did you get the email attachment?"

"I did. What's in it?"

"Something you can use." There was a twinkle in Lukas's eyes again. "Be well, old friend."

Magnus spent an hour examining the information in the very large attachment. When he had done so, he thought it through, then examined it again.

"_None of them?_" he thought, perplexed. "_Not one offered high position? Settlement planners sent away? What are they planning to do?_"

It seemed almost inconceivable. For Britannia to _not_ settle conquered land was a major policy shift. Africa was already overrun with Britannian settlements, relieving the Empire of its excess population, symbolising that Britannia was there to stay. But not in Europe or Russia?

"_They don't mean to stay. Maybe they just want the war to end._" Could it be true? Could it be that Britannia, that bloody-fanged beast, that ravenous wolf, simply wanted _peace_?

Another part of him took its turn to speak. It was the part of him that had guided him for so many years. It was the part of him that had seen too much in too short a time.

"_They need the war to end. They need to stop fighting in order to consolidate their holdings. They need to get Japan back. Has their sakuradite finally run out?_"

The sakuradite was a likely reason. Britannia had become hopelessly reliant on a constant supply of sakuradite from occupied Japan in order to maintain its war economy. If EUROSEC was to be believed, then Britannia had already put a number of big-ticket projects on hold, including the _Vincent_ and _Gareth_ programmes.

"_A chance to extract bigger concessions, or defeat Britannia altogether. But then again, a chance for peace._"

He didn't know what to do. He had no more idea of what to do then than he had before. Was it wrong to hope for peace? Was it such a crime to seek an end to the war, when at least the peoples of Europe would be free of Britannian occupation? What did it matter if Africa was lost? The EU could not solve all the world's problems, and it knew better than to try.

"_We can match them technologically now, but we have less than a third of their manpower. Do we even have a chance?_"

He had hoped that the Armour of God project might be enough, that the _Furiae_ might turn the tide. But even they had not been enough.

"_Kururugi was not enough either._" He thought, as he activated the holographic tactical display, which as a General he was allowed to keep in his quarters. "_For all his strength he was not enough on his own._" The map shimmered into existence, showing the European sub-continent in intricate detail. A red pall hung over France, Spain, and the visible chunk of Russia, with the positions of Britannian units marked out as tiny red knightmares, infantrymen, tanks and aircraft. What remained of the EU was similarly marked out, but in blue.

Magnus scanned his eyes over the display, taking in the details, noting the position of each division, each brigade. It wasn't a question of mental arithmetic, but instinct and experience. He visualized the possibilities in his mind, a thrust here, a salient there, massed bombardment first, or perhaps later on.

No matter how he did it, no matter what combination he used, the result was always the same. Initial victory, only to be worn down and destroyed by Britannia's numerical and logistical advantage.

"_Somehow, some way, if we could only cut off their supplies._ _If we could distract their northern formations, then strike them in the centre and push into Spain._"

His opponent was a computer, and AI could never match a human mind, but its logic was nonetheless impeccable. Though he advanced forces into central France, though British and Scandinavian forces landed in France, or perhaps in Spain, it did not work. All Britannia had to do was deploy its famous Knights of the Round Table. They could not destroy an army by themselves, but they did not need to. All they had to do was make a nuisance of themselves; blowing up MCVs, disrupting the command structure, spreading fear and chaos. An army in disarray was of no more use than an army destroyed.

He needed something else. He needed a random element, something that would throw the balance and give him a chance at victory. But what could it be?

**

* * *

****Finished at last. Apologies for the delay, it was primarily due me replacing the original beginning with the Tohdoh story. I often wondered how his 'miracle' went, so I thought I'd take the plunge and try it.**

**- Yes, I know it was a bit different in the Light Novels, but since it's here now, I might as well leave it in. **


	6. The Perspicacity of Honesty

**Chapter Six: The Perspicacity of Honesty**

"_I have always considered it as treason against the great republic of human nature, to make any man's virtues the means of deceiving him."_

_Samuel Johnson_

_**T**__**hen**_

_**Vienna, Capital of the KUK Federation, EU, **__**May 16th 2011 ATB**_

The hospital was a hive of activity. Nurses, orderlies and porters moved up and down the corridors, engaged in whatever task was presently before them. The waiting room was filled with men, women, and children of all ages. The walls were a luminescent white. The air smelt of disinfectant.

At the front desk was a group of young people, two girls and two boys, appearing to be about seventeen or eighteen years old. They were bound together, to each other and to those they had come to visit, by virtue of being classmates and students at the Colasour Institute, located outside of Vienna.

One of the girls had short, well-coiffed brown hair and an air of sublime confidence. The other girl was shorter, east-Asian in appearance, with long black hair, clutching a bouquet of flowers.

Her name was Akiko Kobayashi, aged 17, Scorpio, Blood Type AB.

She felt sick at heart. It wasn't just being in a hospital, reminding her of a most unfortunate event, but the people she and three others had gone to visit. It was the unbearable knowledge that _she_ had put them in there. It was because of _her_ that they had gotten involved, gotten hurt.

Two weeks had passed since that terrible night, which the media was already calling the Joyce Riots. Two weeks since her father, mother, and younger brother arrived in Vienna, having finally managed to flee the country of their birth. Their reunion had not been a happy one.

She came out of her reverie as the brown-haired girl turned away from the receptionist and beckoned to them to follow.

The girl's name was Elise Fournier, and she was everything Akiko Kobayashi was not. She was beautiful, glamorous, intelligent and confident. Her friendship was a gift from heaven, her ire a hellish curse, and her wrath a living nightmare. She was French, and as such her personality was considered quite normal by her classmates. But Akiko was unfamiliar with French standards of deportment, and by Japanese standards she was shameless and appallingly arrogant. If they were characters in a Dating Sim, then Elise would easily be the Princess character.

"Which room did they say it was?" said Joshua Baum, startling Akiko out of her reverie.

"Number 232, it should be along here," Elise replied, her cheerfulness sounding just a little forced. It took the news that their classmate, Lukas Gunner, was in a coma to bring her down. By contrast, it was all Akiko could do not to turn and run away, so ashamed did she feel.

"I hear he got off after all," Joshua commented to Francesco Marras, an Italian and the fourth member of the deputation.

"Well, it _was_ self-defence" Francesco replied. "Apparently that Japanese, Yamada I think his name was, spoke up for him."

"You just can't _reason_ with these far-right types," Joshua went on. "He's probably drowning in remorse over it, but what could he do?"

"Lukas won't stay asleep forever," Elise spoke up cheerfully. "And he's got us until then. _Courage__ mes__ amis_!" Akiko kept her peace, not knowing what to think or feel.

Eventually, unavoidably, they arrived at Room 232. The room itself was small, but well-appointed, containing two beds. The staff had seen the wisdom, both medical and human, of keeping the two friends together.

In the bed nearest the door lay Lukas. Much of his lower body was swathed in bandages, but his face was serene, as though he were merely sleeping. Beside his bed, the life-support apparatus monitored his condition, ready to summon help at the slightest flicker in his life signs. There could be no doubt that he was receiving the best of care.

On the other bed sat the person she had hoped not to see. Magnus Constantian sat hunched on the bed, leaning on a hospital-issue walking stick. The top of his head was wrapped in bandage, concealing his left eye. His right arm was curled against his chest, covered in white plaster. As she entered the room, she got a glimpse of his eyes, and wished she hadn't.

As they entered, he got up and hobbled out of the room and onto the balcony outside. No one could find anything to say.

"Maybe we should…" Francesco began.

"Let me." Akiko handed the bouquet to Elise and followed him onto the balcony. She glanced to the right, and saw him leaning on the parapet, staring out over the gardens.

"You didn't have to walk out like that," she commented. "Everyone's worried about you."

"I wouldn't know what to say to them," Magnus replied, in mild retort. Akiko could find no reply, but walked over to lean on the parapet beside him. He did not object.

"I trust…your friends made it out alive?"

"Tanaka-san died. Yamada-san is all right."

Silence.

"Why?" The question made Akiko look up in surprise.

"Why what?"

"Why did you take _Refrain_?" Magnus did not look her in the eyes.

"Why did you come for me?" she asked in retort. "You didn't have to."

"They were worried about you," he eventually managed to reply. "Lukas offered to go, I went with him." He said no more, but he did not need to.

"Is it so hard to understand?" Akiko turned to look at the gardens, unable to look at his face, even side on. "Knowing you, I suppose it would be."

"In what way?"

"You've never had a country of your own," her tone hardened suddenly. "You've never had a _family_ of your own. You could never understand how I feel."

"You're right." He replied, his tone as emotionless as ever. "I've never called anyone mother, father, sister…brother. Nation-states have no meaning for me either."

Akiko was mildly surprised by his frankness. For all the anger and shame she felt, part of her wanted to tell him more.

"I have a mother and father. I have a brother too." She paused, gathering herself. "I was worried about him. He got sick before they got out of Japan." She clenched her fist in frustration. "He got cholera! _Cholera_! In this day and age!"

"Is it that much of surprise?"

"Japan used to be a first-class country!" Akiko snapped, losing what remained of her temper. "We were rich! We were educated! We were respected all over the world! Now we're like the people on those charity documentaries! Just sitting around covered in flies, starving to death and wailing about injustice!" She stopped, breathing heavily, eyes clenched shut to hold back the tears.

"And you hate them for it." The reply made her heart turn cold.

"I shouldn't hate my own people," she said quietly, after a brief pause. "I shouldn't despise them. But I can't help it. You've seen them, haven't you? The refugees? All they do is sit around taking charity from the state and _complaining_. We used to have pride."

"Is that why you took _Refrain_?" Magnus asked. "To relive happier times? When you didn't have to feel this way?"

"Yes," she admitted, seeing no point in denial. "But it's not just to live in the past."

"You can't live in the present?"

"Everyone's been so kind," Akiko lowered her head. "You've all shared so much with me. But I can't repay you." Silence.

"I can't share Japan with you," she went on. "I can't show you Mount Fuji, take you shopping in Tokyo, take you to Okinawa to mess around on a beach. I can't share any of it with any of you, because it isn't mine any more." She paused again, relieved that the words were out, but still wondering how he would react.

"That's why you can't understand," she said, part of her hoping to elicit some reaction. "Because what I've lost, you never had." There was silence. Magnus did not reply, nor did he look her in the eyes. She stared at him, _willing_ him to react, _wanting_ him to do _something_, even if it was to spit in her face.

"You're right." The words surprised her. "I don't understand your feelings." He turned his head slightly, looking at her sideways on. "But I can see that it hurts you."

Akiko heard herself gasp. It had been the last thing she had expected him to say.

"I never had a family, or a country," he went on. "But I had a friend."

"I'm _sorry_!" Akiko wailed. "You weren't supposed to get involved! It was _my _problem and no one else's. You didn't have to come! You didn't have to _kill_!" She stopped herself, but the words had already escaped.

"You're right," Magnus replied. "I killed him. He was fifteen, and I killed him." His tone was calm and level, but Akiko had seen his eyes before, and wasn't fooled.

"He would've killed you," she said. "You shouldn't blame yourself.

"But I must." He paused, as though choosing his words. "The police would not condemn me, because he was a criminal in their eyes. By an application of the law I was spared. If they will not condemn me, I must."

"If anyone should be condemned, it should be me," Akiko retorted. "It's because of me that you both came. That's why I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be. You didn't put him in there."

"Yes I do." Now it was Magnus turn to look surprised, even if it was just a little. For the first time he looked straight at her.

"I have to apologize," she went on. "I have to, because I can't live with it. I can't go on living, feeling like I was responsible." She glanced back towards the room. "I just hope he gets better."

"The doctor said he's unlikely to walk again." Magnus gave her an appraising look. "What will you do when he wakes up?"

"I'll stay with him," she replied, without reservation. "I'll help him in any way he needs. I'll stay with him as long as he needs me. It's the only way I can feel good about myself now."

She returned his gaze. "And you."

"I'll join EUROFORCE." He turned away from her, looking out over the gardens again. "I already bear the mark of Cain. Even if it achieves nothing, even if I'm only pretending, at least I can persuade myself that I'm in control of my life. If I am a killer, at least it might serve some purpose."

"You think fighting will solve anything?"

"Probably not," Magnus uttered a cynical sigh. "But nothing else is going to work. The world is dancing to its own destruction."

"You'll fight then?"

"I'll fight." And Akiko saw something in his eyes, something that hadn't been there before. He was certain. He was resolved.

"I'll fight. Even if the world burns and the future dies, I'll fight."

_**

* * *

**__**N**__**ow**_

_**Tokyo, Capital of Japan, June 27th 2018 ATB**_

Lelouch sat back in his seat, giving his full attention to the man in front of him. He felt a slight shudder through the floor. It was the only thing reminding him that he was in a moving vehicle. The Black Knights MCV was had been designed for comfort, after all, before he had _persuaded_ a dilettantish aristocrat to make a donation of it. Even as it sped along the main highway towards Tokyo, he might as well have been in his office at Headquarters.

The man before him was old, dressed in the manner of a Japanese aristocrat. His face was lined with age, topped by a bald pate, his hard eyes offsetting any sense of frailty. He sat in an armchair that made him look smaller than he was, for he was not a tall man, near-skeletal hands resting atop a walking cane. He wore a wry smile.

"I know you to be a risk taker, my Lord Regent," said Taizo Kirihara, his tone languid. "It is not enough that you seek to disrupt Prince Schniezel's schemes a second time, but to take his nephew from him?"

Lelouch had his reasons. The Emperor would not live forever. Sooner or later he would take his leave of mortal life, and the true battle would begin.

Not all of his siblings wanted the top job. Cornelia had preferred to pursue her army career, and Thaddeus had likewise chosen the navy, even dying in its service. He suspected Carine would choose an army career also, if only for the chance to destroy things. But for those who had given up, or had chosen other lives, there were plenty more who dreamed of wearing the crown. Lelouch sometimes thought that he had more siblings dead than alive.

When they started to fight, when the blood began to flow in the corridors of power, Faramond would be in mortal danger. For his father Oddyseus was Crown Prince, and the fact of his continued existence proved that someone powerful and cunning was protecting him. He would ascend to the throne, though he would never _really _rule in his own right, and Faramond would become Crown Prince in his father's place. The other Princes and Princesses would have no hope of the throne while he lived.

Lelouch could not, _would_ not, allow it to happen. He would not allow another innocent to die as his mother had.

"If you know me at all," Lelouch replied, returning Kirihara's gaze, "you know that I cannot do otherwise. I will not leave Faramond in his hands." He did not wear his mask, but neither did he let down his guard. Kirihara was one of the wealthiest men in Japan, and one of very few people to know his true identity.

"Your concern for his wellbeing is most touching, my Lord Regent." Kirihara leaned forward just slightly. "I trust you have a plan?"

"I do indeed." Lelouch offered him a vulpine smile. "I call it Plan Sekigahara."

"Sekigahara…" Kirihara rolled the word on his tongue, amused. "Funny you should mention it."

"In what way?"

"You mentioned that you were going to meet with Masakado Daidouji," Kirihara warmed to the story. "He and Genbu Kururugi didn't exactly get on well. Like Ieyasu and Mitsunari, as many called them."

"I see," Lelouch chuckled. "But which was which?"

"I knew Daidouji-san before the invasion," Kirihara went on. "He didn't like Kururugi-san at all, and the feeling was mutual. To Daidouji, Kururugi was a ruthless opportunist and populist, pursuing his personal goals without concern for the safety of the country. To Kururugi, Daidouji-san was a naïve weakling, clinging too hard to tradition and denying the country its rightful status."

"He seemed to think Japan could gain power through sakuradite," Lelouch replied gravely. "Dominate the entire region, maybe even become the Fourth Superpower."

"And?" Kirihara looked at him expectantly, in the manner of a teacher trying to tease an answer out of a shy student.

"He reckoned without China," Lelouch went on. "They had their own stratagem. The Eunuchs knew they couldn't take Britannia on alone, so they let Britannia have its way, knowing it would stir up the EU, and that an attack on Japan would be more than the EU could tolerate. Thus the EU and Britannia fight each other to a standstill, then China moves in and takes what it wants."

"A plan worthy of their deviousness," Kirihara commented. "Strange that Kururugi-san did not notice it."

"Strange indeed." Lelouch wasn't sure, but he thought there was a hint of something in the old man's tone. "In any case, we can only hope the provisional Diet can keep a handle on things while I'm away."

"I'll admit the provisional government is a little _too_ provisional for my tastes," Kirihara gave him a devious smile. "You're concerned about SKK, perhaps?"

The provisional Diet consisted of the leaders and representatives of all the myriad factions that rose to power in the wake of the Black Rebellion. They were not elected by the people, but Kirihara suspected that Zero had merely been honest in their selection, for they represented the groups that truly wielded power in Japan. Yakuza syndicates, religious cults, regional hard-men who ruled their domains like Daimyo of old, resistance groups whose contribution to the Black Rebellion had consisted of rapine, robbery and massacre. Some of them had proven intransigent, especially with regard to the human rights of those they ruled, and the treatment of former Honorary Britannians, whom Zero had promised total amnesty. He had been forced to deploy the Black Knights more than once to reinforce the authority of the central government. Japanese had killed Japanese, more easily than many were willing to admit, but there was tranquility at last. Army garrisons kept the localities in check while the process of disarmament took place. Kirihara did not know exactly how Zero had managed to persuade the various factions to hand in their weapons so easily, but he had pulled it off with impressive speed. Kirihara suspected that SKK was now the only force in Japan _potentially_ capable of resisting Zero. They were certainly the most powerful single body, having taken control of Kyushu during the Black Rebellion. Though they outwardly professed obedience to Tokyo, and made numerous and rather excessive proclamations of loyalty to _Tenno Heika_, their position was not one that Zero could afford to tolerate forever.

"Their influence in Kyushu is disturbing, I admit," Lelouch replied, somewhat guardedly. "I may have to do something about them in the future."

"You think they're that much of a threat?"

"Not at present. Such people take advantage of disorder and chaos to get their way. That's why this mission to the EU has to succeed."

"For the country, or for yourself?" The question brought Lelouch up short.

"Both," he replied. "If Japan is to have any real security, we cannot return to the old superpower triad. We must build something new, something better."

"Your United Federation of Nations?" Kirihara chuckled. "I can see the logic behind it. It might work, I suppose." Lelouch did not appreciate his tone, but decided not to make an issue of it.

* * *

On the lower floor of the MCV, several of the higher-ranking Black Knights were gathered. CC was off to one side, while Tamaki slouched in a chair, swigging from a bottle of _Asahi_ and holding forth to any and all nearby. Ougi conversed with Diethard, while the others stood or sat, talking in ones and twos or otherwise occupying themselves.

Kallen scanned her eyes over them, and realised how few of them she knew by name.

The Black Knights as an organisation felt alien to her. It wasn't like before, when it was just a few resistance types brought together by the vision of one man. Now, with Japan free for over half a year, the Order's purpose had changed. In that time, it had gone from a ragtag guerrilla army to Japan's new elite force, Zero's weapon of choice.

There were ten thousand of them in total, though only one thousand of these were actual combat personnel, being four hundred knightmare pilots and six-hundred infantry, organised into ten Squadrons and three Companies respectively. The other nine thousand were support personnel, carrying out the myriad tasks necessary to keep the organisation operational.

It had surprised Kallen to discover just how many of them were needed. Each knightmare required one senior mechanic, a team of four junior mechanics, a power-plant technician for the Yggdrasil drive, an IT technician for the Factsphere system, and at least two pilots. Thus the Order's two-hundred knightmares required over two thousand personnel just to keep them functional. Then there was the Logistics Division, Diethard's Information and Media Division, Laksharta's Science Division, the _Special_ Division, the Medics, the administrators, the kitchen unit, the _Ikaruga_'s crew, the Narita base personnel.

Infinite complexity, infinite complications. Endless arguments over budgets and personnel assignments. Kallen sometimes wondered how on earth Zero coped with it all.

For herself, she had avoided it as best she could, knowing it would drive her insane. She was already Captain of Zero Squadron, the elite within the elite, responsible for protecting Zero on the battlefield. She had found herself not just having to lead them in battle, but to watch over them, argue for them, protect their interests. She had found nine new enemies in the form of her fellow Captains, who while respecting her prowess nonetheless thought her squadron unfairly favoured. She had to fight to ensure her squadron was properly supplied. It was painful at times, contrasting sharply the camaraderie she had once known.

"_We both knew it_," she thought. "_Things would never be simple again._"

In the old days, they were lucky to have one or two trained mechanics for all their knightmares. They had shared the burdens, complained about the inconveniences, laughed at their mutual problems. She had known most of her fellow Knights by name.

The Order had become her world. In it she had comrades and a purpose in life. It gave a meaning to the life of Kallen Kozuki that had not been there before. She no longer had to be Kallen Stadtfeld in order to live.

She had not really been Kallen Stadtfeld in a while. She was a persona she had invented in order to live among Britannians. It was a persona that allowed her to be her father's daughter, a Britannian girl of noble birth, the sort who dreamed of pretty dresses and visits from handsome Princes. A girl who would be content to marry some rich aristocrat, if he was decent-looking, and live out her life as a society hostess.

It was a persona that allowed her to dream a young girl's dreams, even if it was only once in a while.

The guilt, the shame at pretending to be someone else, had faded after a while. Kallen Stadtfeld, she eventually persuaded herself, was nothing but an illusion, a _convenience_. Kallen Kozuki was her true self, and she yearned for the day when she would no longer have to live separate lives.

And then there was Zero.

She thought for a while that she had bonded with him in some way, as she had bonded with her brother's fellow resistance fighters, and again with the Black Knights. He seemed to take an interest in her, labelling her Q1, and giving her the _Guren. _It was thanks to him that she had been able to develop her abilities, to become the renowned Red Lotus. She had become the leader of Zero Squadron, and came closer to him than anyone else.

Except _her_, that is.

Kallen had told herself that she wasn't jealous of CC, that she merely found the green-haired girl annoying. But her enmity towards the mysterious 'witch' had gotten gradually worse, especially after people started assuming that she was Zero's mistress.

"_The least she could've done was deny it!_"

She was _jealous_. She was _resentful_. She hated the fact that CC, who contributed so little, who couldn't even load a gun properly, was closer to Zero than herself.

Then came the Black Rebellion, so very nearly a disaster. She had followed him to that damned island, tailed Suzaku into the cave, only to see his mask split apart, the face underneath revealed.

Why did it have to be _him_! Why did it have to be Lelouch Lamperouge? The boy who made her so _angry_? The boy who had given up on the world and thought himself too good for it? The boy who made fun of anyone who made an effort, who really _believed_ in something?

Had it all been a lie? Was Lelouch Lamperouge been an illusion, and Zero the truth? Or was it the other way round?

She had made her decision. She had stabbed Suzaku, dragged Lelouch to the _Guren _and flown him back to Japan, not allowing herself to think about the revelation. There had been too much to do, too many battles to fight.

And he had come through. He had turned the tide, and liberated Japan. He had fulfilled his promise, in spite of the deception and the lies.

"_Who _is_ he!_"

She was not the only one who wondered. She knew that others were wondering about the very same thing. She knew about Diethard and his discreet inquiries. She had seen the suspicion in Tohdoh's eyes. She had sensed Ougi's uncertainty.

Was that why he had Sayoko pose as him? To confuse their attempts to discover his identity? It wasn't a bad plan if it was. If any of them managed to trace anything to a certain Lelouch Lamperouge, a student at Ashford Academy, then they would find he and Zero in different places at the same time. It was more than enough to misdirect a casual investigation, so long as they remained unaware of Sayoko's full range of skills.

But why had he told _her_? Why had he trusted her, now that she knew his identity? Now that she knew him better than anyone else in the Order?

For some reason, she found she _liked_ being in Zero's confidence. She _liked _that he trusted her with his plans before anyone else. She _enjoyed_ his trust, that he saw her as someone he could talk to. It felt good, though she knew it should not.

"Hey Kallen!" A familiar voice shook her from her thoughts. She looked to see Tamaki looking her way, along with some of the others. "How did you like the _Guren_?"

"It's amazing what Laksharta did with it," Kallen replied, enthused. "She even put in an anti-capture system."

"Odd," CC commented. "I would've thought you'd enjoy being tied up."

"I am _not _getting captured again!" Kallen snapped, her face reddening at the comment. "They were going to ship me back to Britannia! If Xing-ke's friends hadn't busted me out…!" She restrained herself as the assembled Black Knights burst out laughing. They laughed, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't the same as it was before, when they had laughed together, struggled together, fought together. The Order of the Black Knights no longer felt like home. It felt like the place where she worked.

The MCV sped along the highway, and Kallen Kozuki understood what she was feeling, what she had been feeling since the Rebellion.

_Loneliness. _

_**

* * *

**__**Brussels, Capital of Belgium, EU, **__**June 27th 2018 ATB**_

The lights were low, casting their faces into shadow. Their moods were as dark as the room.

"So then," one of them spoke. "It has come to this."

"It has," said another. "Martens left the city this afternoon. The last remnants of the War party have been swept away."

"So what remains?" Lieutenant Colonel Sean Nash scanned his eyes over his fellow officers, seated at a round table in a darkened room. Cliché perhaps, but it did no harm. "Pacifists, pro-Britannians and nationalists?"

"Pretty much, yes." Lieutenant Colonel Anton Bertrand glared back. "The pacifists will pay any price for peace, the pro-Britannians will do anything that brings Europe closer to the Empire, and the nationalists just want to see the EU fail."

"Somewhat diverse in their goals, wouldn't you say?" commented Lieutenant Colonel Erika Manteuffel, her gloved hands clasped on the table in front of her. "Might that not complicate the negotiations?"

"It is," Bertrand confirmed. "That's why it's taking them so long."

There were eight of them seated around the table. They were all Lieutenant Colonels, commanding eight of the twenty rapid-deployment Brigades that made up EUROFORCE. They had fought in the war, known victory and defeat, and had watched in helpless fury as three EU members states had capitulated to the enemy. For Anton Bertrand of the Franco-German _Charlemagne_ Brigade, Fransisco Ballasteros of the Spanish _El Cid_ Brigade, and Pavel Sergetov of the Russian _Kutuzov_ Brigade, this was especially hard to take.

The purpose of the meeting, in a discreet hotel in Brussels, was to plan their response. It was being informally chaired by Lieutenant Colonel Sean Nash of the_ Tyrone _Brigade.

"We cannot allow this to happen," Sergetov said what they were all thinking. "Even if the Britannians _do_ withdraw from Europe and Russia, there is no guarantee that they will withdraw from Africa. A permanent Britannian presence in Africa would leave us hopelessly disadvantaged."

"Knowing that bunch in Cent-Hem," Ballasteros snarled bitterly, "they'll probably ask the Empire to take over the whole lot of us."

"But are we even in a position to drive Britannia out?" spoke up Bertrand. "Twenty million is a lot of men."

"Drive them from Europe, certainly," replied Manteuffel, of the _Scharnhorst_ Brigade, in a level tone. "Africa is another matter."

"They'll never compromise on Africa," insisted Alicia Reed, of the _Marlborough_ Brigade. "They _have_ to have some territory to show for it, after we killed five million of them."

"I must concur with Lieutenant Colonel Reed on this," Nash added. "Schniezel will have to make us suffer or the Senate will turn on him, especially after Rio de Janeiro."

"What did you expect from Britannians?" Ballasteros sneered. "They burn, smash, and gas our cities, napalm our fields, poison our water, then we smash up one of their cities and they throw a tantrum."

"This, I submit, is our situation," Nash interjected, hoping to get the debate back on track. "We are in a position to drive Britannia from Europe. Should we succeed, it would take most if not all of our combined resources to take the fight to Africa. To the best of our knowledge the bulk of Britannia's resources are tied up in Russia and Africa, so the fighting will take place primarily in those areas."

"Leave Mother-Russia's liberation to her sons, Lieutenant Colonel Nash," Sergetov spoke up. "We have one million Russian troops in Eastern Europe, along with the same in the Polish and _Kaiserliche und Koniglich_ forces, plus five-hundred thousand from the Ukraine, Belarus, and Scandinavia. Factor in Romania and Bulgaria and we have another hundred-thousand or so. If we can bring in our Yugoslav brethren, then that's another four-hundred thousand."

"We'll need the Austro-Hungarians for the western front," Manteuffel retorted. "That leaves you approximately two and a half million to throw against at least six million Britannians with a clear line of supply from their homeland. There's at least that many in Africa too and about a million in France."

"Six million, spread out all over the _Rodina_," Sergetov growled back. "If we strike quickly, we can achieve local superiority and wipe them out a little at a time. In truth, it's more of a challenge getting them to wait."

"What about Spain," Nash glanced at Ballasteros. "Have your sources said anything?"

"I can confirm that the garrison in Spain is minimal," Ballasteros replied. "Only five hundred-thousand, and they're based in the coastal cities. Just give the word, and my people will be rid of them in less than a week."

"Five hundred-thousand?" Reed was disbelieving. "To hold down forty million people? How will he keep the government in power? Has he even disarmed the troops?"

"He's a Prince, yes?" Ballasteros laughed ruefully. "He'll use any useful idiot who comes his way, but he won't stick his neck out for them. My old friend reckons he's planning to clear out in a hurry once the treaty's signed."

"That's why I think he isn't planning on occupying Europe itself," Nash spoke up again. "He hasn't anything like the numbers. Britannia's full strength is twenty million absolute tops, and they've got enough problems holding down South America."

"If this is all true," Bertrand slammed his fist down on the table, "_why_ exactly are they discussing _peace_!" There was a pause. The rage coming off the bald-headed Frenchman was palpable, and they all knew from whence it came.

"Why do you think?" Sergetov sneered. "They're either weak, deluded, or greedy. Even if Schniezel isn't planning on staying, he'll have won them over in any number of ways. Everyone has their price, and no one said it had to be money."

"There is a way that our chances can be significantly improved." The Lieutenant Colonels turned to look as Frederik Szymanowski, of the _Sobieski_ Brigade, spoke up. "We could join forces with Zero."

"Zero of the Black Knights?" Reed's expression darkened. "Do we _really _want to bring _him_ into this?"

"He may be exactly the ally we've been looking for," Szymanowski pleaded. "I have confirmed that Zero will be in Strelsau meeting with King Rudolph. It's the perfect opportunity to make contact."

"We can't afford to wait on the convenience of some masked avenger and his terrorist gang!" Bertrand snapped. "What about Colonel Constantian! Why isn't he here!"

"Contacting him directly would be too risky," Nash retorted. "He got Galland's job for a reason."

"To keep him out of the way, you mean," Betrand growled back. "Nonetheless that makes him important. The _Adler_ would be a great asset."

"Lieutenant Colonel Morisato." As Ballasteros spoke the name, all eyes turned towards the lone Japanese at the table. "You served under Constantian before his promotion. You know him better than anyone here. What will he do?"

Lieutenant Colonel Ichijo Morisato, Commander of the _JL _Brigade, otherwise known as the Japanese Legion, impassively returned their gazes as he measured his response. He had not spoken thus far.

"I cannot say I know him intimately," he replied eventually, his tone level. "But I have never encountered anyone more loyal to the EU and its ideals than him."

"Are you saying he will join with us?" Nash cocked an eyebrow.

"I said what I said, Lieutenant Colonel Nash."

"We can't afford to assume his support," Szymanowski insisted. "We must plan to act without him."

"It's no surprise that you would suggest Zero," Ballasteros commented darkly. "After all, the Polish and Italian governments _have_ sent word to Zero, expressing interest in his new alliance. Do you deny this?"

"And why shouldn't my government make contact?" Szymanowski demanded. "Should we not seek allies where necessary? Do we not need all the friends we can get?"

"The Black Knights are insurgents" Reed retorted.

"Insurgents who threw Britannia out of Japan!" Szymanowski looked from one to the other of his fellow Lieutenant Colonels, seeking their support. "Zero is no mere terrorist. I am convinced that we must join with him if we are to succeed."

"Or…" It was Morisato.

"Or what?" Szymanowski stared accusingly at him.

"Your statement implies an unwanted alternative to joining with Zero," Morisato replied, returning the Pole's gaze. "Is it defeat? Or do you perhaps fear something else? Perhaps you fear Zero's enmity?"

"A strange sentiment coming from you," Szymanowski retorted. "After all, he _did_ liberate Japan. He _is_ now the Regent." Attention quickly shifted to Morisato. His dark eyes did not waver.

"My loyalty," Morisato eventually replied, "is to Japan, and to _Tenno-Heika-sama_. I recognize no person called Zero." No one dared reply.

"We've become distracted," Nash insisted. "It seems that we must act if the terms bend towards anything less than a total withdrawal from Europe proper. We can recover our position quickly if that happens."

"And what of Africa?" Sergetov cocked an eyebrow.

"Indeed," Nash agreed. "The big question is, do we let Britannia make off with Africa, or do we act?"

There was a low thump from the next room. The Lieutenant Colonels looked around in surprise, with the exception of Nash.

"And that was?" Betrand asked, looking hard at Nash.

"Housekeeping" Nash replied, with a straight face.

_**

* * *

**__**Tokyo, Capital of Japan**__**, June 28th 2018 ATB**_

There was no sound but a constant roar.

Zero could hear it as he stepped out of the car. It hit him like a gust of wind, straining his ears even inside the helmet. A line of blue-uniformed TMPF officers stood with linked arms, straining to hold back the crowds.

He strode across the tarmac, not too quickly, not too slowly. He allowed his legs to carry him confidently, looking sideways on to the cheering throng, raising one hand to wave. The roar seemed to get even louder as he did so, the crowds hanging on his every movement, his every gesture. So it had been, on so many occasions. They couldn't get enough.

For now, at least.

Before him the _Ikaruga _sat upon the tarmac, three hundred metres long, resplendent in blue and black livery, the sword and spread-wing emblem of the Black Knights emblazoned across the bow. Zero offered the crowd another wave as he headed up the steps, the roar fading as he stepped through the hatch.

Crew members lined the corridor, saluting as he entered. Minami Yoshitaka, the Ikaruga's Captain, stood to attention before him, saluting also.

"Your Excellency, welcome aboard."

"Thank you, Captain Yoshitaka." Yoshitaka led Zero along the main corridor and to the Bridge. Therein were his inner circle, and his highest-ranking followers. Tohdoh was there, as was Ougi, Tamaki, Diethard, Laksharta, and Kaguya, who had arrived in a similar fashion a few minutes earlier. He could also see Kento Sugiyama, Captain of the Commando Company and Head of the Special Division, whom he did not know so well.

"The _Ikaruga _is ready, your Excellency," Yoshitaka spoke up as he took up position in the centre of the lower Bridge.

"Take us out, Captain Yoshitaka."

The _Ikaruga _slid gracefully into the sky, moving out across the bay in a gentle arc. Helijets buzzed around it like so many hoverflies, some of them carrying news cameras, beaming the image of Zero's flagship all over Japan, and much of the world. As the mighty floatship moved further and further from the city, they gradually withdrew, until the _Ikaruga _was alone, sovereign of the Tokyo sky. They had a clear view of the city, its gleaming towers reaching up into the sky, and many more around them still half-constructed. Tall solar panels lined the coast, drinking in the sunlight to power the liberated metropolis. It was a sight worthy of Japan's Capital City, the Capital of a liberated nation.

But as they passed out over the sea, the crew and passengers had a clear view of an even greater marvel.

It was enormous. It was a gleaming mountain of ice eight kilometres across, with bastions of dark metal and stone spreading out from the base like the points of a star. So deep was its draft that it could come no closer to shore.

Its name was _Taishan_, for one of China's most sacred mountains. Such was the expense of constructing and maintaining it, that the Chinese Federation possessed only five more of them. It was made from a single iceberg, a symbol of Chinese power and identity, a weapon crafted from the Earth itself. It carried hundreds of aircraft, almost a thousand guns, and missiles of every kind. It could support and repair an entire fleet of warships. A whole army division could be carried within it.

The Chinese Federation's Glacier Fortresses were unique. There were no other warships like them in all the world. Even the proud and mighty Britannian Imperial Navy gave them a wide berth.

This one stood guard over Tokyo, reminding the Japanese people of Tianzi's benevolence. Another, the _Huangshan_, patrolled the cold ocean to the north, menacing Britannia's supply lines into Russia and keeping six Carrier Battlegroups occupied. The _Hengshan_ prowled the South China Sea, adding to Area 10's already onerous burdens. The _Songshan_, _Lushan,_ and _Huashan _were in the Bohai Sea. No reason had been given for this, but Zero had his suspicions.

"_They're surely preparing to attack the Philippines_" he thought. "_They don't need all three to attack Area 10._"

He could see the _Taishan_ in all its glory. He could make out the individual gun batteries, their long barrels pointed skyward. He could see the warships arranged in formation around it. Ten Destroyers and twenty Frigates of the East Sea Fleet, of which the _Taishan_ was part.

He saw puffs of smoke as they fired off their deck guns in salute. A second later the entire fortress was wreathed in smoke as a thousand guns fired off. He heard the roar an instant later. Some of the Bridge crew jumped at the sound. Glancing sideways, he saw Tohdoh bring his hand to his temple in a crisp salute, returning the gesture. There was little chance that anyone down there would see it, but it was the thought that counted.

**

* * *

****(Note to Readers. The size figures for the **_**Ikaruga**_** and the Glacier Fortress are conjectural, based on me scaling them as best I could. They may be subject to retcon in the future if more data becomes available.) **


	7. The Mystery of Humanity

**Chapter Seven: The Mystery of Humanity**

_Whenever a man has cast a longing eye on office, a rottenness begins in his conduct._

_Thomas Jefferson_

_**Then**_

_**Henan Province, China, February 23rd 2018 ATB**_

Kallen Kozuki was in despair.

Some idiot had forgotten to replace her knightmare's Energy Filler. As a result, she had run out of power at an awkward moment, namely during a fierce battle with a certain Xing-ke, who had only a short time earlier tried to disrupt the Empress' wedding to Prince Odysseus of Britannia, a man old enough to be her father.

Now she was aboard the Eunuchs' _Longdan_ command vehicle, awaiting her fate.

In contrast to the Britannian G-1 command vehicles, the _Longdan_ was vaguely pyramid-shaped, three-hundred metres long and two-hundred wide at the base, painted dark green. Its main armament consisted of two main guns on the apex. Twelve smaller guns were emplaced below the apex, three on each side, and four bastions extended out from the corner, the front pair carrying twin turrets, the rear pair carrying single turrets . Like the dreaded Glacier Fortresses, the _Longdan_ was slow and easily visible over long distances, but had the firepower, resilience, and versatility to make up for it. It served as transport, supply cache, field hospital, repair station, Command centre, and artillery battery.

Kallen was in a cell. Fortunately they had not seen fit to put in her a straitjacket, as Britannia tended to do with prisoners. She was nonetheless handcuffed. She sat on the cold metal bunk, occasionally glancing up at the man who was keeping watch on her.

He was a tall man, in an elaborate red uniform and a bowl helmet. It was the uniform of the Army of the Forbidden City, the force ostensibly responsible for guarding Tianzi, but in reality it was the catspaw of the Eunuchs. Unlike his fellows in the Forbidden City, who had carried long staves and other traditional weapons, this one carried an assault rifle. He had not said a word since she had been brought in.

She was angry, frustrated, despairing. She had _never_ been captured before. It shouldn't really have been possible. But that damned Xing-ke and tied up her poor _Guren_ with his slash-harken, then hauled her in like a prize from a hunt. No doubt soon the Eunuchs would hand her over to the Britannians, to please their new masters. No doubt she would be taken back to Britannia, tried, reviled as a traitor, and executed. No doubt they would take her _Guren_ apart, in search of the technological treasures within.

She tried to keep her hopes up, to convince herself that she would be rescued. But as time dragged on, that seemed less and less likely.

Her reverie was disturbed as the door slid open, and a green-shirted officer strode into the cell block, stopping before the Guardsman.

"We have new orders regarding this prisoner," stated the officer. "We are to take her to Luouyang immediately for processing."

"Processing, _Shang-Wei_?" the Guardsman gave the officer a dubious look.

"_Shang-Wei_," Kallen thought. "_Something like a Captain._"

"Her Imperial Majesty was desirous of her company," said the Shang-Wei. "She expressed to us the wish that she should attend upon her in the future." The Shang-wei thrust a scrap of paper into the Guardsman's face. Kallen could make out a red Chinese character stamped on it.

"Very well!" the Guardsman said quickly, standing aside. Her mind frozen by surprise, Kallen allowed herself to be led out into the corridor. Flanked by four green-armoured soldiers, the Shang-Wei led her down a series of corridors, moving further and further into the depths of the _Longdan_. Before long, Kallen had lost all sense of direction.

"So," she said, as they entered a conveniently empty corridor. "I'm to be a Lady-in-Waiting, am I?"

"If it pleases her Imperial Majesty," the Shang-Wei replied. "It pleases her Imperial Majesty that you serve her as you serve best." He did not look at her. Kallen found herself wondering what awaited her back at Luouyang.

Finally they entered the main knightmare hanger. The _Guren_ sat where Xing-ke had left it, on a low-slung transporter. Britannian technical personnel were clustered around it, along with a few soldiers in grey-armour and black-visored helmets. An officer in blue uniform strode over to the arriving party.

"We're moving the knightmare onto the _Avalon_ now, by the order of his Imperial Highness," he stated bluntly. "We will also be requiring this prisoner, by his order."

"She stays with us for now," the Shang-Wei replied. "Until she tells us where she hid the key."

"Really?" the Britannian officer smirked. "And how will you make her talk?"

"Like so," the Shang-wei drew his sword. Kallen tensed.

The Shang-wei swung the sword in a sideways cut, so fast that it hissed. The Britannian officer looked surprised for a moment, even as a red line materialized on his throat. He fell backwards, blood gushing. As he fell the four Chinese soldiers stepped out sideways, raised their rifles to their shoulders, and opened fire. The Britannian soldiers went down fast, taken by surprise, as the techs dashed for cover.

"No time to explain," the Shang-Wei snapped, unfastening her handcuffs and pressing something into her hand. "We replaced the Energy Filler." Kallen looked down, and saw that it was her activation key.

"But…" As she looked up, she saw the Shang-Wei fly backwards, hearing an instant later the chatter of an assault rifle. She flung herself behind the _Guren_'s leg, bullets whipping through the empty space she had occupied only a second earlier. She glanced out, and saw more Britannian soldiers boiling through the main door. Fortunately they appeared to have no grenades.

"Go on!" shouted one of the Chinese soldiers, as they returned fire. "Tell Xing-ke we didn't regret it!"

Kallen looked from the soldiers, to the fallen Shang-Wei, to the key in her hand. In that instant, there was a war within Kallen Kozuki. The young girl faltered, terrified. The soldier swung into action, propelling her up the steps to the cockpit. She flung herself inside, ramming the key into its slot. The cockpit slid shut, the systems came online.

_Guren Kashoshiki _stood up, the cables snapping and whipping as it rose. Kallen turned the knightmare to look down at her rescuers, only to see the last one fall in a hail of bullets.

"_I didn't even get his name_."

A terrible resolve filled her. She turned back towards the main door. The Britannians were in full retreat, knowing they had no chance against a knightmare. But Kallen was determined no to let them get away.

Drawing on the stick, she raised the oversized right hand. The deadly _Fukushahado _radiation projector didn't have a full charge, but she could not afford to wait. She could see through the main door and into another chamber beyond, evidently the docked _Avalon_.

"For you, Shang-Wei!" She squeezed the trigger. A burst of red-to-purple malevolence lanced out, catching the retreating soldiers and blazing into the _Avalon_'s knightmare hanger. Bright explosions filled her screen. Kallen glanced down at the power gauge, willing the weapon to recharge faster.

But the _Avalon _was pulling away in a hurry, banking sideways to get out of range, smoke pouring from the ruined hanger. She brought the knightmare up to the doorway, leaning it out to look around.

She could see the _Ikaruga_, partially concealed by the entrance of what appeared to be a large cavern. She remembered the plan, and realized that it must be the Imperial Tomb. The mountainside around the entrance was pockmarked and blackened, the once-elegant statues that decorated it smashed to rubble. Hundreds of red-painted _Gun-ru _knightmares poured fire on the _Ikaruga_.

Noticing something, Kallen focussed her factsphere on the _Ikaruga_. She felt a surge of adrenalin as the screen showed the _Shen-hu,_ kneeling on the _Ikaruga_'s topside. Most of the Chinese fire missed, desecrating the holy mountainside instead, but every so often a shell struck the blue knightmare's exposed back. Kallen wondered what on earth would possess Xing-ke to do what he was doing. Why expose himself like that? What was he trying to prove? Who was he protecting?

The factsphere zoomed in closer, and her heart flew to her mouth.

Just visible behind the _Shen-hu_ was the tiny figure of Tianzi. Her gown, torn and stained, billowed in the wind. She seemed to be shouting up at the ?, at her protector, her would-be saviour. Was she confessing true love? Imploring him not to die for her?

She was betrayed, condemned, cast aside by the Eunuchs and their toadies clad in red steel. She would die for their ambition, and so would Xing-ke.

"_And we made it happen_."

Kallen's lip curled in fury. She slammed her feet against the pedals, wrenching the controls forward. The _Guren_ hummed as the flight unit powered up, the narrow wings sliding into position. It seemed to feel her anger, her determination. Outside of it, she was merely Kallen Kozuki. Within her beloved _Guren_, she was a Goddess of War.

"Guren Kashoshiki! _Go_!"

The _Guren_ soared out across the battlefield, her spirit soaring along with it. She was in battle again. She was free.

Then she remembered. Resolved, she aimed herself directly at the _Ikaruga_, at the stricken _Shen-hu. _Li Xing-ke had been responsible for her capture, her humiliation. But she would not let him die. She would not harm Tianzi for the sake of her pride.

She heard the insistent beeping. The layout of her cockpit was intuitive, customized to her particular needs, tendencies, and responses. The beeping sound came from behind and to the left. The _Longdan_ was turning its guns on her.

She jinked right, an airbust shell detonating where she had been a moment earlier. _Guren_'s factsphere was one of the most advanced in the world, capable of warning her against scanner locks, enemy knightmares, even missiles. But it could not warn against bullets or shells. They were simply too fast, and had no convenient electronics to give them away. That was why they were still used.

She had only her instincts, her experience. Never drive straight in a combat zone, as the more experienced knightmare pilots had warned her. Never _fly_ straight either, or the gunners on the _Longdan_ could lead her and pick her off.

She jinked, jinked again, airbursts surrounding her. Her comm crackled.

"Ikaruga to Guren! Kallen, is that you!"

"Ougi!" She knew the voice well. "You're okay!"

"Kallen! We're in trouble!"

"I'm coming!"

"Oh no you don't, little lady!" came a foreign voice over the comm. Kallen wrenched the controls, slewing _Guren _sideways as a white-and-blue blur raced in. The blur shot past, and Kallen looked back upon it. It turned in mid-air, and began to reform itself. She could only stare in disbelief as the machine became a knightmare, carrying what looked like a pair of pickaxes.

"May I have this dance, Crimson Princess?" She recognised that voice. It was the arrogant blond who followed Suzaku around. What was his name? Weinberg?"

"Dance to your death!" she shrieked, throwing _Guren_ into a dive, claw outstretched. The strange knightmare, coloured white, gold, and blue, slewed sideways as she came on. It tried to strike her as she passed, but she barrel-rolled and parried, the axe-blade sliding off her claws in a shower of sparks. She allowed the knightmare to freefall, stabilizing once she had a little space. The factsphere finished scanning her opponent's transponder signal. It identified the strange knightmare as _Tristan_.

"_He must be a Knight of the Round Table,_" Kallen thought. "_No wonder he's so fast._"

"Come now, little vixen!" came that irritating voice again. "I'm not going to stand on your pretty feet!" She forced herself not to lose her temper. That was probably his intention, and she needed her wits about her. At least the _Longdan_ had ceased firing. _Tristan_ came at her. She dodged, around and above, ascending as fast as she could. She saw _Tristan_ turn below her, bringing its arms together. She felt a twinge of instinct, and pulled _Guren_ back, a sun-bright Hadron Cannon beam lancing through the air before her. She could have matched it with her _Fukushahado, _but she didn't want to risk it. Her clash with Xing-ke had shown the dangers of such a course.

A green light. _Fukushahado _was fully charged.

Without needing to think, she let loose the purple beam, straight at the unsuspecting _Tristan_. Kallen shrieked an expletive as the knightmare dodged away at the last minute, the beam taking out a half-dozen _Gun-ru _who just happened to be underneath.

She backed away, focussing again on the _Tristan_ as it soared up and away. But now it was not so graceful, and she could see why. The radiation beam had winged the _Tristan_, scorching the gleaming armour. She could see a trail of smoke coming off it.

"Now you're mine!" She throttled forward, blazing towards the stricken knightmare, claw outstretched. She could not miss a chance like that. Closer and closer, the _Tristan_ tried to evade, but now its movements were sluggish. She imagined the grin falling off the pilot's face, the terror in his eyes. No more smart comments from him.

Angry beeping from her right-hand screen. She glanced at it, and saw another knightmare to her right. This one was heavy-set, painted purple and white. She saw its shoulders slide forward and connect, forming into a weapon. The HUD labelled it _Mordred_. Another Knight of the Round Table.

If she tried for the kill, it would more than likely get her. Her_ Guren_ could not withstand a direct hit from a Hadron cannon, and even a glancing hit would probably be crippling. Gritting her teeth in frustration, Kallen banked to her left, the beam scorching the air as it passed. She turned again to face the smoking _Tristan _and its saviour.

"Kallen! Enough!" The voice shocked her out of it. She glanced at the comm in surprise.

"Zero?"

"Come in Kallen. This battle's over."

"But…" She could not believe what she was hearing. But then she saw her screens. Wondering at what was happening, she turned _Guren _to look down.

The red _Gun-ru_ were in panic-stricken retreat. Confused, Kallen looked up to see more _Gun-ru_ approaching from the north, green ones this time. They were firing into their red counterparts, lighting the ground with explosions. She could see infantry too, and helijets, and then two more _Longdan_, guns blazing. Xing-ke's troops had arrived.

She looked again at _Tristan_, hovering where it was, _Mordred_ close by. It had been joined by another knightmare, this one white and gold.

_Lancelot._

It seemed to stare at her for a long time. Kallen wondered if it was going to attack, to try and turn back the vengeful tide.

They could do it. They would all die, but they could do it.

Instead, _Lancelot_ and _Mordred_ took hold of _Tristan_ and flew away. Kallen turned to follow their path, and saw the _Avalon_ banking away, its shields flashing as shells struck. She saw the three knightmares board, then the airship began to accelerate.

"Tell the Chinese!" she shouted into the comm. "They're getting away! Tell them to scramble fighters!"

"No." It was Zero again. "Let them go. There'll be another time." So Kallen watched as the _Avalon_ ascended into the clouds, heading north towards the border. She estimated that they would cross into occupied Siberia in a matter of hours.

She landed _Guren _on the _Ikaruga_'s upper deck, as it slid out into the open air. The Black Knight and Chinese deputations were already there. She strode towards the Black Knights, clustered around Zero, feeling the cold morning air on her face. They looked back at her with a mixture of awe and remorse. Only Zero was expressionless, his face hidden behind his mask, as he strode out to meet her.

"Welcome back Kallen," he said, and she could have sworn he sounded relieved. "You came just in time."

"I wasn't going to let them ship me back to Britannia," she replied, a little flattered. He led her back to the group, where she was bombarded with questions, apologies, and compliments. She heard what had happened, how Zero had come out in his _Shinkiro_, protected Xing-ke and Tianzi. She heard how he had tricked the Eunuchs into revealing their true intentions, while broadcasting it all over China. Xing-ke's coup-d'etat, so it appeared, was proving a resounding success.

She glanced towards the Chinese delegation. Tianzi was there, still in her white dress, with Xing-ke kneeling before her, his officers hanging back respectfully. As Xing-ke stood up, Zero strode forward until he was halfway between the two groups.

"I must apologise to your Imperial Majesty for all these indignities," he said, his voice loud and clear. "We have disrupted your Imperial Majesty's wedding, and we seem to have driven away your husband," the Chinese did not laugh.

"Zero," Xing-ke spoke, his voice level, but his eyes were blazing. "Perhaps you should ask forgiveness for putting a gun to my Empress' head." The Black Knights shuffled their feet in uncertainty. It could get very ugly very quickly. Zero was not ruffled however, but pulled the Britannian-made handgun from his belt. He held it up, so that all could see, and pulled the trigger.

It clicked. The anti-climax was louder though.

"Did you think I would risk harming a child, even if she was not the Empress?" Zero sounded almost offended. "You saw what you wished to see, Xing-ke, and the clouded mind sees nothing." Xing-ke did not reply.

"We need to make the whole world recognize that her Majesty's marriage has been cancelled," Diethard spoke, side-on to Zero.

"That's true," Zero replied.

"And the best way to do that," Diethard went on, smiling, "is to have her marry someone from our side. Someone from a Japanese family would be perfect."

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"If you like," Diethard was entirely oblivious, "I can draw up a list of suitable…"

"But you musn't!" Kaguya shrieked, making everyone jump.

"Lady Kaguya, this is a matter of politics. It isn't personal."

"But it _is _personal!" Kaguya rounded on Diethard, enraged. "It's a matter of love, not politics!"

"She has a point," CC commented airily.

"We are at war," Diethard retorted. "Lives are at stake."

"Hey," Nagisa turned to glare at him. "You're pushing it pal!"

"Pal!" Diethard exclaimed. "I'm a staff officer here!" Laksharta giggled, causing him to snarl at her, before rounding on Zero. "Zero! Your decision!"

"You agree with me, don't you Zero-sama!" Kaguya insisted. The Chinese watched this display in mild bewilderment.

Zero paused, looking from Kaguya, to Tianzi, who was looking somewhat bashful.

_And staying very close to Xing-ke_.

"Your Imperial Majesty!" he swept out his arm, making his cape billow. "Know that your life is your own, and that your destiny is your own. No person may command you to give your heart, for your heart also is your own."

"We need to establish a position of power!" Diethard protested.

"The human heart is the source of all our power!" Zero retorted. "With the power of the heart, the people rose up against the Eunuchs. With the power of the heart, the Black Knights fight and win!"

Silence. Tianzi seemed to come to some decision inside.

"You…are forgiven, Zero of the Black Knights." She looked up at Xing-ke, who stepped forward and extended his hand. Zero shook it.

They all heard it, but did not know what it was at first. The sound drew them to the edge of the deck. As they looked down, they saw Xing-ke's troops filling the plain below. Their faces were upturned, and all were singing.

_Gǒng jīn'ōu _

_Chéng tiānchóu, _

_Mínwù xīn fúzǎo, _

_Xǐ tóngbāo, _

_Tianzi__ shí xìngzāo. _

_Zhēn xī hào, _

_Dìguó cāngqióng bǎo. _

_Tiān gāogāo, _

_Hǎi tāotāo. _

The words echoed off the mountains. It was as though the earth itself had raised its voice in song. It was not the National Anthem, for it was not for China alone. It was a song for the Middle Kingdom, and for its Empress. Light spilled over the mountains, as if to join them in their song. Dawn was breaking.

_Solidify our golden empire, _

_Underneath the aegis of heaven, _

_All of civilization will cease to toil, _

_United in happiness and mirth, _

_As long as Tianzi rules. _

_Our empire is emblazoned by light, _

_And our boundaries are vast and preserved. _

_The expanse stretches infinitely, _

_The sea brims with turbulence. _

_**

* * *

**__**Now**_

_**Somewhere over north-eastern China, June 28th 2018 ATB**_

"I called this meeting," Zero began, "to explain our business over the next few days, and to deal with any relevant issues."

He scanned his eyes around the _Ikaruga_'s meeting room. The familiar faces were all present, with some new ones too. They sat in a cluster off to one side, set apart from the Black Knights by their formal business attire. He could see their leader, Yasuyuki Konoe, the official representative of the Provisional Diet. The man was a classic Japanese functionary. His suit was immaculate, his hair neatly arranged in a suitably conservative style. A pair of narrow, intelligent eyes stared back at him.

To look at him, one would never have believed that he was once a warlord of some potency, whose arsenal had included an armoured train. He had been one of the first to cooperate with the Black Knights, trading armed force for the respectability his family was accustomed to.

"We will soon arrive in Beijing," Zero went on, "where we will pay our respects to Tianzi, upon the completion of her moving of the Capital."

One of Tianzi's first acts upon regaining her throne was to move the Capital from Louyang back to Beijing, a significant undertaking that had occupied much of her time. Xing-ke, who was her proxy and right hand, had also been busy. The various regional governors and petty potentates had not rebelled out of any great loyalty to the slain Eunuchs, but rather out of fear of Tianzi's justice, and the desire to maintain the system from which they profited. But against the soldiers of the Beiyang Army, the elite striking arm of the Chinese armed forces, there could be no victory.

And there was yet more work to do. Most of the former Chinese Federation's member states had expressed a desire to stay on, but all of them wanted to renegotiate their relationship. India had gone so far as to declare itself independent, something that China had no choice but to accept, sweetening the bitter pill with trade agreements, a mutual defence pact, and a host of other lesser deals and agreements. The politicians had handled the major issues already, it was now down to the lawyers and bureaucrats to hammer out the fine details. It could take years.

"We'll leave the _Ikaruga_ in Beijing, officially for refitting. Once we've completed our business, we'll travel to Ruritania by Zeppelin, for the Soiree on the thirtieth."

"A Zeppelin!" Kaguya exclaimed, excited. "I've never been on one!"

"Great, but just one problem," Ougi spoke up, his tone dubious. "Are they going to carry our knightmares for us?"

"Of course not," Zero snorted. "And we'll never get the submarine past their ASW defences, at least not without their cooperation. We'll be going as a diplomatic party, so handguns only."

"That will leave us vulnerable," Tohdoh commented darkly. "There's a strong possibility that Britannia will make a move against us."

"That's not Schniezel's style," Zero retorted. "And even if it was, any large-scale move would reignite hostilities. Ruritanian security and EUROSEC should be able to handle any small-scale move. We will use International Law for our protection, and Schniezel will be powerless to attack us."

"They didn't care about the Law eight years ago," Ougi glowered. "What's to stop them _this_ time?" No one else spoke, but Zero could see the question in their eyes.

"Schniezel _needs_ this peace deal," he insisted. "He won't do anything to endanger it. Diethard will explain in detail." On cue, Diethard flicked open his dossier.

"Since our success last winter," he began, eyes darting from the dossier to his audience as he read, "Britannia has all but exhausted its Sakuradite reserves." He slid a disc into the slot in front of him, and a series of graphs appeared on the main screen. "As you can see, their Sakuradite usage has increased by a factor of twelve since 2010, and is continuing to grow at an exponential rate. By our projections, Britannia's Sakuradite stockpile will be completely used up in no more than one year, and that's _without_ actual combat."

"In other words," Zero smirked under his mask, "total economic collapse."

"Impossible!" Ougi spluttered, shocked. "How…how could it get that bad!"

"For eight years, they had more Sakuradite than they could possibly refine or use," Diethard went on. "Such a state of affairs would invariably lead to wastage. Aside from technologies that require it, Britannia has been using bigger and bigger sakuradite ratios where it isn't really necessary."

"Most technologies only need a little sakuradite," Laksharta cut in, noting the blank looks. "A top-of-the-range laptop, for example, needs only a miniscule amount. Things like knightmares and float engines need loads of it, there's just no other way to transfer the amount of electric current needed. But _now_ they've started upping the ratio even in consumer goods. You get more processing power in your computer, or a better signal on your phone, or better TV reception. But it means they've been expending Sakuradite at a rate they can only sustain by controlling Japan's supply."

"So how come they didn't counter-attack straight away?" Tamaki spoke up, both irritated and confused. "If they needed the Sakuradite that badly?" Zero had the horrible feeling that he knew the answer.

"_But of course, you have no conception of the games that are in play. You don't even know who my opponent is."_

"_Damn you!_" Zero railed silently against his father. "_What are you up to!_"

"It was mostly likely the Chinese navy," Tohdoh interceded, sparing him. "Those Glacier Fortresses are slow, but their sheer firepower makes them hard to deal with. China can also defend us easily, because we're relatively close."

It was what Zero himself was planning to say. Winning Tianzi over had been worthwhile indeed.

"Moving on," he insisted, regaining the initiative. "Our primary mission will be to ensure that the peace talks fail, and that the EU resumes the war with Britannia. Our secondary mission will be to establish ties, building trust and laying the foundations for future relations." He glanced at Konoe, who nodded in agreement.

"And we're doing that at a soiree?" Ougi looked confused.

"Of course!" Tamaki cut in cheerfully. "That's how it works in Europe! You can hammer out the details in a board room, but the _real_ negotiations happen at parties!"

"And you'd know that, of course," Chiba retorted. "Considering how much money you blew on fancy meals."

"Well it worked didn't it?" Tamaki spread his hands, grinning too much.

"There are some people we need to make contact with." Zero touched his keyboard, and brought up the image of Masakado Daidouji. "You know this one already. Formerly Ambassador to the Imperial Court at Pendragon, he now represents the Japanese government-in-exile, the one based in the EU to be pedantic. If we're to get the EU-based exiles on our side, he's the one we'll need to convince. Also," he tapped the keyboard again, and the image was replaced by one of a short-haired, sharply-dressed woman. "His wife, Sonomi Daidouji, CEO of the Daidouji Toy Company. Their turnover last year was two-hundred-million Euros, making the Daidouji family exceedingly wealthy. It's what they've been living off these past eight years." Another tap, and the image changed. It was replaced with an image of a young girl, about fourteen or fifteen years old. Her hair was midnight black, hanging long and straight over her shoulders and down to her waist. Her eyes were blue-running-to-purple, her skin pale, her face delicately-featured.

"Wow!" Tamaki exclaimed, and there was quite a stir among the others.

"The Lady Tomoyo Daidouji," Kaguya said proudly, pre-empting Zero. "Daughter and heiress of the _Shishaku _Masakado Daidouji, and also my cousin."

"Yeah!" Tamaki looked closely at her. "You do look a lot like her!"

"She'll be attending the Soiree," Zero went on. "Apparently she's been persuaded to sing for us, so don't go saying I don't buy you anything nice." He took some satisfaction in their reactions. Tomoyo Daidouji's singing voice was legendary. It was said that she had even made the Empress-Dowager of the KUK Federation, Emperor Karl-Franz's iceberg of a mother, shed a tear or two.

Once a few ancillary matters had been resolved, the meeting broke up. Zero repaired to his quarters, followed by Kallen and Rollo. As she entered, Kallen paused momentarily as she saw Lelouch sitting at a desk off to one side. Then she remembered.

"Now we can talk," Lelouch began stripping off his Zero costume as the faux-Lelouch left the room. "There are things we can't discuss with everyone else there."

"What kind of things?" Kallen cocked an eyebrow.

"Your dress," came an all-too-familiar voice from the sofa. CC was, as usual, sprawled across it, clutching her beloved 'Cheese-kun' plush toy.

"My what!" Kallen couldn't quite believe what she'd just heard.

"Exactly that," Lelouch closed the wardrobe, now wearing only a Black Knights uniform, identical to the one his doppelganger was wearing. "I need you to attend the soiree as my date, so you'll need a dress."

"A…but…" Kallen spluttered. She glanced at CC.

"Don't worry," CC gave her a condescending smile. "I'm going with Zero."

"Zero? You mean…!"

"Yes, with me." At that precise moment, Zero swept in. "I think I'm on now, Lelouch?"

"You are, Zero." The faux-Zero offered his arm to CC, who got up and took it. She shot Kallen a smug look as they left together. It was all she could do not to throw something.

"Brother?" Rollo spoke up, looking slightly bewildered. "Am I to come too?"

"Of course," Lelouch grinned one of his vulpine grins. "You'll be accompanying Lady Kaguya."

"Lady Kaguya?" Rollo was shocked. "As in…a…"

"Think of yourself as her bodyguard," Lelouch headed over to the main desk, and began sorting though some dossiers. "I played it down at the meeting, but there's a real chance someone from Britannia will do something stupid."

"Brother?"

"I need you to keep Kaguya safe" he turned to look his 'brother' in the eye. "Can you do that?"

"I will!" Rollo nodded.

"Good. Now…" He paused, feeling a chill from the direction of Kallen.

"Is something wrong?"

"Aren't you supposed…to ask me?" It was not so much something in her expression as in her aura. It was enough to make Rollo, normally unflappable to the point of being dense, to back away.

"Ask you?" Lelouch was caught off-guard.

"You know," the fury in her tone was palpable. "Flowers maybe? Chocolates even? Would I care to accompany you to the King of Ruritania's soiree?"

"I know for a fact that you're indifferent to flowers," Lelouch retorted, more than a little intimidated. "And there's little point in giving you chocolate after Valentine's day. Besides, it would give the wrong impression."

"Anyway," he turned back to the dossiers. "It's not as if it's costing you anything. You can claim for the dress from the slush fund, since it's for a mission."

"_Really?_" Kallen drawled coyly. "Are you sure that's wise?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Lelouch quipped, hoping to regain the initiative.

"It's just that I am, after all, a silly, _frivolous_ little girl," Kallen's smile was distinctly forced. "I might see that _one_ dress I just_ have_ to have. I might do something silly, like blow the _entire_ slush fund on it."

"That would hardly be necessary." Lelouch was starting to wonder how he could extricate himself from this. "I'm easy to please."

"I don't have to buy a dress just to please _you_!" Kallen growled. "Is it such a surprise that I might actually like to own a dress?"

"No…I mean, _of course not_!" Lelouch spluttered. He couldn't figure out why Kallen was being so obtuse. "But it's only a mission, after all."

"Really?" Kallen was unimpressed. "_Just_ a mission? That's all it is?"

"Are you saying you can't do it?" It was a cheap shot, but Lelouch was unsettled. Sure enough, it brought Kallen up short.

"No. I can do it." She paused, seemingly gathering herself. "But there's a couple of things I want to make clear."

"They are?"

"I AM NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND!" she shrieked, making both Lelouch and Rollo jump. "I'll go on this date, I'll act like we're a couple, but I'm not your girlfriend! AND I WON'T DANCE WITH YOU!"

There was a long, awkward pause.

"I'm going to check on _Guren_" Kallen said eventually. She left the room without another word.

"Brother," Rollo spoke up. "That wasn't very nice."

"It's just a soiree," Lelouch groused, irritated. "It's not as if I'm asking her to dance on tables in a sailor fuku." There was a loud thump from outside, causing them both to jump again.

"_RURUCHE-NO-BAKA_!"

Kallen stormed down the corridor. Such was her fury that anyone she encountered dived out of her way. When she reached her quarters, she slammed her fist against the door control and stormed inside.

"_Stupid Lelouch! How dare he treat me like this! What does he think? I'll just go with him because he tells me to! He doesn't understand a young girl's feelings!_"

She punched the wall, fuming, then winced as pain lanced through her knuckles. It brought her out of her rage.

She headed over to the sink, and put her bruised knuckles under cold water, her anger fading. The pain of her hand was more insistent, and it helped her to regain control. She had long understood the importance of controlling her feelings, of being able to look at a situation logically. It had saved her life many times.

It surprised her how angry she had been. She got angry often enough, but not so much as to completely loose her temper. Even finding out that Zero was Lelouch hadn't had _that_ effect. So what was it? Teenage hormones? Or something else?

It occurred to her that there really wasn't anyone on board she could talk to about it. She didn't know the Bridge Crew girls well enough, nor any of the female Black Knights. She dared not talk to Kaguya, for fear of how she might react. She _definitely_ wasn't going to ask CC.

And even if she'd been there, she didn't feel as though she could ask her mother. Not after the relationship choices _she_'d made.

It occurred to her that she didn't really have any friends.

She'd known Ougi for a long time. He and Naoto were in the same class, and she'd thought of him as an extra older brother. The relationship she had with the other resistance fighters, who became the first of the Black Knights, was more comradeship than friendship. There was, she had learned, a difference.

The nearest things she had to friends were back at Ashford Academy. And that life had been a lie. It had been Kallen_ Stadtfeld_'s life.

_She_ would be over the moon about this. Kallen Stadtfeld would've been skipping around the room, giddy with excitement at the thought of accompanying _Lelouch_ to a soiree, at a King's Palace no less. It was Kallen Stadtfeld who knew about dresses, makeup, and jewelry. It was Kallen Stadtfeld who would go to the ball.

Was _that_ why she was so angry?

Damn it all, why _couldn't_ she go as herself? What was wrong with going as Kallen Kozuki?

She looked at herself in the mirror, and realised the answer.

Her hair stuck out at the sides in harsh spikes. That was Kallen Kozuki. She removed her headband, and the hair fell down, her entire appearance changing in an instant. That was Kallen Stadtfeld.

With the hair up, she was vital, free-spirited, and a little bit dangerous. With the hair down, she was demure, pretty, and friendly. The soiree would require the hair down.

"_Can't I look cute without being Kallen Stadtfeld!_"

She looked at herself with her hair down, remembering how it all started.

She had been ten years old when it happened, when the country of her birth suddenly ceased to exist, when _she_ ceased to exist. She had known what was going on, that there was a war, and that it was going badly. The last thing she expected was for her usually absent father to show up afterwards, inform her that she was now Kallen Stadtfeld, and that she would be living with him from then on.

It was a time of wonderful, painful ambivalence. She had bounced from excitement to dread, joy to guilt, wonder to fear. As Andreas Stadtfeld's daughter, she had things she could only have dreamed of before. She had felt like a princess in a palace, a childhood dream come true. She was her father's daughter at last.

It hadn't taken long to go sour, for her to understand the price she was paying. As she had grown, as she had learned, as she had come to understand the _thing_ she had become a part of. She could not understand why _anyone_ would want to be Britannian, that is, knowing how Britannia maintained its wealth and power. How could anyone be a part of that? How could anyone be _proud_ of it?

Her brother couldn't understand it either. Nine years her senior, he had been nineteen years old when Britannia destroyed Japan. He had refused to be a part of what happened, and Andreas Stadtfeld hadn't wanted him anyway. He had wanted a daughter. A pretty, well-mannered, marriageable daughter. And his long-time mistress had managed to give him one. Even better, she could pass for a Britannian well enough.

Naoto had disappeared in the closing days of the war. Kallen had worried herself sick, wondering whether he was alive or dead. The dresses were not quite so pretty, nor the rooms so luxurious, when he entered her thoughts.

By some miracle he had survived. She had taken any opportunity to see him, any chance to slip away. She had enjoyed those days, out in the country with Naoto and his rebel band, and he seemed to have enjoyed her company too. As a Resistance Leader, her brother had found a new energy, a new purpose. He was no longer the brooding, bitter young man she hadn't wanted to know. Whatever had bothered him back then, before the war, it evidently no longer mattered.

She had lived her double life; Stadtfeld by day, Kozuki by night. She had revelled in it, enjoyed the deception, the feeling of power and intrigue. But most of all, she had learned how to be free. She had learnt that true freedom lay within, in what she thought and felt, as well as what she did.

Then he died. He went on a mission, and never came back. She had taken it badly. She had screamed and raged, blaming everyone, blaming herself, even blaming Ougi. Things had never been the same after that, after what she had said. It wasn't just a glorified camping trip any more. It was a war.

Kallen cursed. So what if she had been fighting almost constantly for so many years! Why shouldn't she live a normal life! Plenty of other resistance fighters had got on with their lives after the Black Rebellion. Surely she could do the same.

But if that was true, then why was she still a Black Knight? Why had she stayed on? Why had _any_ of them stayed on?

Was it that the Order had become a home of sorts? Had they all fought for so long that they couldn't remember how to live any other way? Would she wake up one morning and realise that her life had slipped away?

She sighed. Her mother would want her to go. Kallen had no doubt that she was worrying about her finding a boyfriend, about her marriage prospects. If she did actually call Milly, she would tell her to go too. And after all, it was coming out of the slush fund.

She giggled, feeling somewhat mischievous. The slush fund had always been under Zero's personal supervision, and Tamaki hadn't been allowed anywhere _near_ it even when he was in charge of finances. She suspected that the money was untraceable, or that it came from questionable sources.

And she could charge to it.

Oh why not! It was only a mission after all, and it might even be fun. Sure, Lelouch didn't have the first idea about how to ask a girl out, but that didn't matter, did it?

After all, she wasn't his girlfriend.

Certainly not.

_**

* * *

**__**Britannian front-line Military base, Arras, occupied France, June 28th 2018 ATB.**_

Prince Schniezel el Britannia had to use all his self-control to maintain his customary aura of serenity.

"Senators," he did his best to sound respectful. "You must understand, there are certain _practical_ considerations."

Before him was a series of screens, arranged into a semi-circle, allowing him to engage in conversation with the entire Senate-Select Committee for the Conduct of the War as if he were in the conference chamber with them. While this was all very convenient and necessary, Schniezel sometimes wished that it had never been invented. That way, the sheer distance involved would give him some peace and quiet.

"Chancellor," replied Senator George Mckinley of Virginia. "Respectfully, the Senate is growing tired of _practical considerations_. You have refused to allow settlement construction in Europe, and your negotiations with the EU have dragged on interminably. The Senate wants progress!"

Schniezel ignored a hiss of fury from the shadows around his office.

"And progress they shall have," he replied, his tone soaked in grace. "We shall have peace with the EU in a few days."

"So you claim!" snapped Senator Robert Keyes of Massachusetts. "Though _your Highness_ has been remarkably lenient with the Europeans! The Spanish, French, Russian, and Portuguese troops have not been disarmed! Does this not put our troops in danger?"

"They have not been disarmed because they are not our enemies any more." Schniezel did his utmost to be patient with the Senator. "We have made peace with those countries, and we are therefore acting in cooperation with them. To disarm their armed forces is neither appropriate nor necessary."

"They are our _enemies_!" Keyes roared. "Since when did we treat enemies with such kindness? All who stand against us should be totally destroyed!" No one else spoke, but Schniezel could tell that Keyes was not alone in that opinion.

"Senators," he began, choosing his words carefully. "There is but one reason why the EU has fought so hard for so long. It is because they believe that the only alternative to fighting is death and destruction. I have shown them that this is not the case."

Keyes did not reply, but Schniezel knew that he was not convinced. Keyes was a member of the Nativist Party, which sought to limit Britannian citizenship to those of proven white heritage, allow no religion but what _they_ considered acceptable, and to prevent 'cultural contamination.' What they thought of the EU could not be mentioned in polite company.

The Nativists were also notoriously disrespectful of their social superiors. The former leader of the party, Senator Hugh Berrenger, had responded to the death of Princess Euphemia by calling her the 'whore of Babylon', citing torrid rumours regarding her relationship with Suzaku Kururugi. The next day a certain Lieutenant John Kenrick, a known Purist, shot the Senator at point blank range during a Party Rally. The Nativists were further enraged when Kenrick escaped the death penalty, a Military Tribunal having concluded that Euphemia's tragic death had left him 'mentally unbalanced', and that the Senator's comments had been 'provocative.'

"There is also a more practical reason, Senators. As you are no doubt aware, our sakuradite reserves are dangerously low, so low that actual combat would exhaust them in about six months. At pre-war consumption levels our remaining stockpile would have lasted us ten years. Yet the Senate has seen fit not to implement my recommendations to reduce wastage."

"It is most unfortunate, Highness," replied Senator Carlos Martino of California. "Without your presence it is difficult to gain the necessary consensus."

"_In other words_" Schniezel thought sourly. "_Your paymasters have no intention of cutting back their profits._"

No one who knew or understood anything seriously thought that the Imperial Senate was by, for, and of the people, for all its pious claims. Its members were from wealthy families, either in business or involved with it, the pseudo-aristocracy that made the Empire wealthy. They enjoyed all the wealth and privilege of their noble-born counterparts, but suffered few the responsibilities. The senators gained their seats via the popular vote, but success depended on visibility, on advertising. Like war, the sinews of politics were unlimited money. Some, like Mckinley and Martino, had their election campaigns funded by major Corporations. Mckinley had been backed by Britannic Systems, an arms contractor of generally good repute that had cornered the market for knightmare frames after the breakup of the Ashford Foundation. Martino had his funding from Lockhart and Gottwald, which specialized in combat aircraft. His paymasters had suffered a recent embarrassment when the Emperor cut the funding to their _Dark Knight_ project. Other senators were backed by lobbies of varying types and interests.

Of course there was nothing to stop ordinary people standing for office. It was just that they tended to get no further than their State Legislature without a serious backer, who would invariably expect quid-pro-quo. When Mr Smith went to Pendragon, he went as a corporate mouthpiece or a fanatic. Exceptions to this rule like Senator William J. Helmsley from Tennessee, a member of the Flare Party, tended to make bad enemies. It was nonetheless unusual for them to be actually assassinated. His death had SIS written all over it, but no one could prove anything.

There were those who said the system was unfair, that it was _undemocratic_. But Schniezel had been Chancellor of the Empire since he was twenty-one, and knew with the certainty of a disappointed idealist that it was _perfectly_ democratic. For all their power and wealth, the senators still owed their position to the popular vote. The entire process was overseen at all levels by the Imperial Judiciary. Any attempts to rig the ballots, disqualify candidates, or disenfranchise inconvenient portions of the electorate were dealt-with severely. The Magistrates derived their authority and funding from the Emperor, and neither the Senate nor the Corporations had any power over them.

Yet nothing changed.

"Unless sakuradite consumption is reduced to manageable levels," Schniezel insisted. "Our economy will collapse in the space of one year. I would have thought that this would be more than sufficient motivation."

"The Senate has another suggestion, _your Highness._" It was Keyes again. "The immediate recapture of Area 11, as it should have been eight months ago." There were mutters of agreement.

"Senators," Schniezel forced himself not to sigh. "While recapturing Area 11 is an option, it is not a _preferable _option, bearing in mind the strain any such operation would put on our economy. You must bear in mind that Japan is rearming at a rate of knots, and it is also under the protection of the Chinese Federation."

"Which is why," Keyes went on, eyes glinting with fervour, "the Senate has drafted a formal ultimatum to be sent to China immediately." Schniezel willed his face to retain its shape, but noted the glances some of the Senators were giving Keyes.

"_He stepped out of line,_" Schniezel thought. "_They weren't planning to show me that just yet._"

"And what will this ultimatum demand?"

"A formal apology for the incident last December," Keyes began. "We have also included a series of economic concessions, including free and unrestricted access to the straits of Malacca. Unconditional recognition of all territorial gains made by us with respect to the EU, along with Areas Nine, Ten, and Eleven. They will also be required to cease all military cooperation with the Area Eleven rebels, and make no attempt to prevent our restoring Imperial control." Schniezel continued to stare straight at Keyes. He had long since mastered the skill of looking around without noticeably moving his eyes. The Senators were looking nervous.

"You realise of course, Senator," Schniezel replied, measuring his words. "That such an ultimatum will inevitably result in war."

"Then war there shall be," Keyes retorted, and Schniezel knew that he meant it. "Britannia must not endure defiance."

"_When the schoolmaster resorts first to the birch_" Schniezel thought, "_soon he has no resort but the birch._"

"Of course, we must deal with this matter promptly," he replied. "I only ask that the matter be dealt with as soon as I have finalised the peace negotiations. You need only wait a few more days." Keyes opened his mouth to speak, then paused at a glance from McKinley.

"If it pleases your Imperial Highness," he said, more respectfully this time, "complete the business. We await news of your success." And with that, Schniezel broke the link. The lights came back on.

"The _arrogance_!" roared a familiar voice from the wall behind him.

"Now now, Colonel Dennett," Schniezel smiled as his audience stepped round the desk to stand before him. "They're only politicians, after all."

"You treat them too kindly, your Highness," said Colonel Alan Spacer, who seemed only slightly less outraged than his colleague. "They don't appreciate it."

"I have enough problems without getting into pointless arguments with senators," Schniezel replied, ending the matter. "I would hear your thoughts on this."

He scanned his eyes over his assembled followers. General Asprius Bartley held the highest rank. Portly and bald, Bartley was not the most inspiring of figures. But he was reliable and loyal. With him was Colonel Spacer, Colonel Michael Dennett, Colonel Philip Mitchell, and Colonel Isidor Stern. Each one commanded a Air-Assault Battlegroup and the _Logres_-class airship that carried it. Schniezel had brought them into his circle because of their combat experience. It had brought them an understanding which would make things easier in the future.

Also present was Earl Lloyd Asplund, of his _Camelot _research team, who had proven so helpful in the past. With him was his assistant, Cecile Croomy, and also Nina Einstein, now head of _In Vogue,_ his _other_ research team. He also saw Lord Gino Weinberg, Lord Aramis Custer, and Lady Anya Earlstreim, Knights of the Round Table all.

And there was Suzaku Kururugi, looking rather taciturn, along with Kanon Maldini, his personal assistant.

"It's madness," said Bartley. "We can't fight the Chinese Federation _and_ the EU!"

"Even with a peace deal," added Spacer, "it would take weeks to pull off a staged withdrawal from Europe."

"What's more," Dennett chimed in, "the rotation system is stretched to breaking point. Our troops need down-time for equipment maintenance and recuperation."

"But we have recruits in training, do we not?" Schniezel queried.

"Yes your Highness," Bartley replied. "Four million of them. But they haven't yet completed their advanced training. They're simply not ready for combat."

"Our logistical infrastructure is also overstrained," added Colonel Mitchell. "All branches are reporting shortages of vital components and spare parts, as well as Energy Fillers. Ammunition is also in short supply." Schniezel did not reply immediately, instead he spent a few moments compiling and analysing their reports.

"What do we know of the EU's current capability?"

"Very little, your Highness," Bartley once again took the lead. "Their Space-Blinders continue to deny us orbital telemetry, at least over those parts of Europe they still control. For all we know, they could be preparing for a massive counter-attack."

"The Space-Blinders are a problem, yes," Schniezel mused. "Fortunately there are _other_ ways." As a rule, he found his _other_ ways far more reliable than satellite imagery. All Space Command could offer him was pictures, assuming their highly expensive satellites were not being blinded by ground-based lasers. Fortunately Britannia possessed the same capability, as did the Chinese Federation.

"Do you know something, your Highness?"

"I know that the Central Hemicycle in Brussels is half empty," Schniezel began, "and that the other half has disappeared. I also know," he paused for effect, "care of a little bird, that the King of Ruritania is holding a soiree. The guests will include a certain Zero." He smiled, chuckling inside when he saw the looks on their faces.

"Zero!" Bartley spluttered.

"We should kill him!" Nina snapped, startling Lloyd and Cecile with her vehemence. "It's the perfect opportunity!"

"I reckon we could do it?" Gino grinned, exuding confidence. "Now that my poor _Tristan_'s all fixed."

"We will do nothing," Schniezel replied, ignoring their shock.

"But, your Highness!" Nina's eyes bulged in disbelief. "He'll be vulnerable!"

"My peace negotiations are at an extremely delicate juncture," the Prince explained. "There are significant elements in the EU opposed to peace, and any aggressive action on our part will almost certainly cause the negotiations to break down."

"Your Highness, this is practically a rerun of the affair in China!" Nina protested. "He'll ruin everything anyway if we don't stop him! And surely we have strength enough to defeat the EU! We took Santiago, didn't we?"

"_We_ did," Dennett retorted, glaring at the small, mousy girl. "Capturing Santiago cost us a million men." Schniezel sighed inwardly.

Fortress Santiago had been the EU's primary defensive facility, covering the Pillars of Hercules straits between Spain and Africa. A vast honeycomb of underground bunkers, armed with more weaponry than most armies, Santiago had to be taken, or the Britannian fleet could not access the Mediterranean Sea.

The victory had been costly. The Spanish troops garrisoning Santiago had refused to surrender, fighting until the last bullet, collapsing their tunnels behind them, rigging every blessed thing with bombs. The fortress had fallen only after months of fighting, over a million dead and twice that number wounded, and the loss of a considerable amount of valuable equipment. Schniezel had no desire to repeat the experience.

"Such a thing won't happen again!" Nina insisted. "My FLEIJA will see to that!"

"Ah yes," Dennett sneered. "Project Damocles and its wonder-weapon."

"Now now," Schniezel insisted, deterring the Colonel. "Nina, what have you to report on that account?"

"The test-detonation took place on schedule," Nina replied, enthused. "The details are in my report."

"They are. A most impressive result." Nina blushed at the compliment. "Nonetheless, we need to keep it in reserve for now." Nina looked suddenly crestfallen.

"Don't worry, Nina darling," Lloyd put a hand on her shoulder. "Prince Schniezel is just worried that if we show it off right now, those silly politicians will get ideas."

"Ideas?" Nina looked puzzled, and slightly irritated.

"Yes dear. Very very bad ideas of the sort politicians tend to have." Lloyd grinned. Nina did not.

"That will be all for now," Schniezel said. "If Sir Suzaku and Nina will remain behind for a moment." The others bowed and left. Suzaku and Nina stood before his desk, Nina looking rather nervous, Suzaku looking as he generally did.

It was sad. The young knight had become even more morose and taciturn than ever. It was nothing in his speech, which was always polite and to the point, but rather in his countenance. Schniezel knew it all too well.

He could not blame him for it. The battles in Spain and France had been enough to harden or break anyone. Suzaku had flung himself into battle like a man possessed, seemingly everywhere, the White Reaper, as EU troops came to call him. He seemed immune to the danger, not caring if he lived or died.

But he lived. Still he lived. Every day he went out. Every day he came back. Every day it seemed as though a little more of him was stripped away. He had tried to retain his humanity. He always gave the EU troops the chance to surrender before he attacked, even _after_ the fall of Santiago. No doubt hoping against hope that someone might look upon his _Lancelot_ and not die.

They never accepted. The garrison of Fortress Santiago had not accepted. The _Charlemagne_ Brigade had not accepted. None of them accepted.

Schniezel felt sorry for him. _He_ could cope with it. He had cast his heart into the furnace long ago, and would do so again if that was what was needed. _He_, Second Prince Schniezel el Britannia, Chancellor of the Empire, could handle it.

It hurt to see his young soul wither away like that. Especially considering the person he had met a few months earlier in Area 11, now Japan. That person, of whom Euphemia had been so fond. That person, who seemed to have found a new hope, a new purpose for his existence. That person, who had been so blissfully, deliriously happy.

"I will continue the negotiations here for the next few days," Schniezel began. "This means that I will be very busy. I have a favour to ask of the two of you."

"Happily, your Highness," Suzaku replied. Nina nodded in agreement.

"My nephew, Faramond, is at the chateau, working on some matters for me. I fear that if he is not properly supervised he will work all day, and I have no time to spend with him. I would therefore like it very much if you would attend upon him for the time being." Both were taken aback.

"_His nephew?_" Nina thought, shaking slightly. "_Princess Euphemia's nephew?_"

"It would be an honour, your Highness," Suzaku managed to reply. Schniezel could not help but be pleased. The young knight had been shocked out of his torpor.

"Be sure to insist that he plays his flute for you," he added, smiling. "Tell him I wish it so."

**

* * *

****(Sorry for the delay. Amongst other things, the first section got a bit longer than I originally intended. I also had some trouble with it, since I could not remember exactly how it went. Also, I had to redo the last part, since Lelouch could not have called Shirley in this scenario, at least not without creating **_**another**_** continuity error. I hope it came out all right. **

**I only found out that Britannia had a Senate after R2 episode 4, where the assassination of the aforesaid Senator Helmsley is described in one of Rollo's case files. It also revealed that the Empire includes a state called Tennessee.**

**The anthem incidentally is the Qing Imperial anthem as adopted in 1911, but not well known as the Qing dynasty was overthrown in 1912. I can use it without fear, since Qing China had no copyright laws. I switched the word 'Qing' for 'Tianzi'. Tianzi's name is Jiang Luhua, but I'm not sure which way round this is, nor am I certain that the Imperial throne is identified with a dynasty. The Eunuchs claimed in Episode 11 that they could always get another Tianzi, meaning she could have come from anywhere. Good renditions of this anthem can be found on Youtube.**

**There will be more information on the 'Space-Blinders' in the next chapter.) **

**Retcon – Date of first segment changed to February 2018 to fit new background info**


	8. The Perversity of Wisdom

**Chapter Eight: The Perversity of Wisdom**

_The shaft of the arrow had been feathered with one of the eagle's own plumes. We often give our enemies the means of our own destruction._

_Aesop_

_**Then**_

_**Kyoto Prefecture, Free Japan, January 26th 2018 ATB. **_

Kallen leaned against the window, watching the world go by.

It was going by at quite a pace. Then again, she _was_ on a train.

And no ordinary train. For one it was drawn by an elderly steam locomotive, as evidenced by the clouds of smoke visible above. It drew a train of _Pullman _carriages, equally old, but no less luxurious for it.

The train had originally been acquired shortly before the invasion by a group of Japanese entrepreneurs, hoping to market it as an amusement for those portions of the Japanese public who could afford a ticket. They would ride in old-world style and comfort, a taste of a more elegant age, while enjoying the most pristine views the Japanese rail network had to offer.

After the invasion the train had been acquired by a low-grade Britannian noble, who put it to much the same purpose. Its present owner was the Order of the Black Knights, and Zero, now Regent of the Free State of Japan, was using it to travel from a newly-liberated Tokyo to the battlefront, where he would oversee the final push into what remained of Area 11.

Ordinarily Kallen would have thought it odd to travel in an old relic like that, but she could see Zero's reasons, of which there were three. Firstly, the train was fully functional. Secondly, it did not require electricity, the coverage being spotty at the best of times. Thirdly, it allowed him to travel in _style. _When that particular train came roaring through the countryside, there could be no doubt as to who was on board.

Kallen felt rather contented. She could have sat there for hours enjoying the Kanto countryside in the light of early morning. It was a rare moment of peace in a world full of violence and death. It was a taste of what was to come, of what she and so many others had suffered and sacrificed for.

But she knew herself too well. It had taken her long enough to get up, the bed in her compartment being _just so cosy_. She already had a tendency to oversleep, and her luxurious surroundings had not helped matters. She glanced at her watch, and knew she had best go at once. It was nearly time for the morning meeting.

It was a matter of a few minutes to cross two carriages and arrive at Zero's personal carriage. She stepped into the vestibule, and noted with some relief that Rolo was not around.

It was unusual. It was just plain _strange_. That the brown-haired youth with the bright eyes and the insincere smile should turn up out of nowhere, bringing an advanced prototype knightmare with him, struck Kallen as the latest in a series of inexplicable events. It wasn't that he was let in that was so strange. If Prince Clovis himself had turned up with a knightmare like the _Vincent, _then he would at least have been considered. It was his claim to be Lelouch's brother that was so weird.

Not _Zero'_s brother. _Lelouch_'s brother.

Kallen couldn't make sense of it. She had never seen the boy before, though admittedly she hadn't known Lelouch for all that long. He had a little sister whom Kallen knew, and upon whom he doted, but he never mentioned a brother.

It was certainly plausible. He was like Lelouch in his face, and Nunnally in his hair, and both their eyes. She had seen those purple orbs so many times, in so many strange stares. At first they were dismissive, when he was trying to muscle in, to be the one always at Zero's size. Then they were suspicious, when he realised that Zero had two sides, and he could occupy one at most. When he found out who occupied the other, they were downright malevolent.

She was glad he wasn't around, though in some respects not knowing the boy's whereabouts was equally unsettling. She knocked on the door, heard no response, then tried the handle. It clicked open, in the old style. Kallen cautiously poked her head around the door, looking for any sign of the Regent. Seeing none, she slid in around the door and carefully clicked it shut.

A murmur caught her off-guard. She calmed herself, and moved around the large sofa that dominated the front end of the car. Before it was a coffee table piled with papers. Indeed, the entire office compartment was a scene of organized chaos. She moved cautiously around the sofa, only to see Zero, in his full regalia and mask, sprawled across it.

"Zero?" she whispered, her body frozen in embarrassment. When no reply came, she repeated his name, louder that time. He was obviously asleep.

"Nunnally," Zero muttered. "Nunnally, we don't run around naked! Nunnally!" His legs began to kick, as though running. "Nunnally! Come back!" Kallen barely stifled a giggle.

"Nunnally you're getting soap suds everywhere! No not in there!" Zero sat up all of a sudden, making Kallen jump. It was already too late to flee.

"Uh…Kallen," the mask turned to face her, the voice beneath it sounding unsettled.

"I…I'm sorry!" Kallen bowed, her face turning the same colour as her hair. "I didn't mean to just walk in!"

"It's of no concern." There was no anger or aggression in his tone, but a rather an air of command. "Have you something to report?"

"We're forty minutes from the Keihanshin siege line," Kallen recovered, falling back into the familiar call-and-response of military discipline. Or as close as the Black Knights could manage. "The Command Staff are waiting in the Conference Car."

"I'll come at once," Zero straightened up, shaking his head to drive away sleep.

"Zero," Kallen spoke up, unable to contain herself. "You were dreaming."

"Yes," Zero replied, sounding somewhat distant. "Yes, I was."

"You were dreaming about Nunnally," she said, concerned, and more than a little hopeful.

"Yes. Someone called Nunnally," Zero stared into space, as if raking old memories. "I dream about her, as if I knew her once, but I can't seem to remember her." He turned his masked head to look straight at Kallen. "Do you know of her at all?" The mask had no eyes, no features, but Kallen could feel his eyes boring into her, seeking the truth. But dare she reveal it? Dare she try to make him remember?

"I can't remember," Zero went on. "I remember you, and the others, but I don't remember anything about _me_. I can't even remember my name, only that I'm Zero. I…I don't know how it happened."

Kallen didn't understand it either. She remembered the encounter in the cave, the vast carved frieze that looked like something from another planet, the fight with Suzaku, pulling Lelouch's arm over her shoulder and hauling him to the _Guren. _There was nothing that should've had such an effect, unless it was psychological.

She remembered what happened when they arrived too. They had found base-camp in chaos, all units in headlong retreat. Some had cheered, others had glared suspicious, accusing glares. They blamed _him_ for what was happening. They blamed _him_ for bugging out at the crucial moment, for allowing victory to turn into defeat.

But they had not been defeated.

Tohdoh had managed to maintain some order, but he had only his authority as an officer, the kind that only worked on soldiers. He lacked Zero's charisma, which could stir the heart of any kind of person. He could never hope to command the armies of liberation. A rabble of hard-bitten insurgents, religious fanatics, juvenile delinquents, turncoat Britannians, and even bandits, it was not the kind of army that someone like Tohdoh could lead.

They needed _him_. They needed Zero.

Had that caused it? Had he forgotten everything in order to devote himself to the cause? Had he sacrificed his true self for the sake of the mask?

"_Dare I tell him? Should I say his name aloud? I can't be sure someone isn't listening._"

But she knew how she would feel if Naoto had forgotten she existed.

"_Poor Nunna-chan." _

"I…I shouldn't bother you with this." Zero actually sounded apologetic. "I know you mean well."

"You should get more sleep," Kallen looked at him, worried.

"I can't," Zero replied, standing up. "I'll sleep when this is over. And with any luck, this will be over soon."

Disconsolate, but seeing no way around it, Kallen followed Zero out of the compartment and along to the Conference car. Within were the highest-ranking Black Knights, consisting of, Ougi, Tamaki, Diethard, and Laksharta. On the other side of the conference table sat the Tohdoh, his green uniform now emblazoned with Marshal's insignia, along with Nagisa Chiba and several high-ranking officers of the new Japanese Army, whose names Kallen did not know. They stood up as he entered. Zero sat at the head of the table, and they all sat down.

"_At least they stood up,_" Kallen thought hopefully. It was better than just sitting there glaring like they used to.

"Everyone," he began, without a hint of nervousness or reticence. "I have reviewed the situation since last night." He slid the disc into the projector, a map of Japan shimmering into existence. Much of Japan, including Hokkaido, was marked by a fluttering _Hinomaru_ superimposed over the landscape. The rest, westward to Kyushu, was marked with the red white and blue of Britannia. The map zoomed in, focussing on the seam between the two flags. At the southern end was the Keihanshin metropolitan region.

"As you can see, Keihanshin is the lynchpin of the Britannian defences. If we take it, we get Hyogo Prefecture with it. Britannian forces are tied down on Shikoku fighting the insurgents there, and we should be able to reinforce them once we've secured Awaji island. The _Shinri-Kyo-Kai _alliance is pushing hard in Kyushu, and if the Britannians suffer any further setbacks they may not be able to reinforce their positions there. I have also been informed that the Glacier Fortress _Taishan_ and her battlegroup have passed the Habomai rocks."

"So we're winning!" Tamaki enthused. "If it's passed Hokkaido, then it'll only be a few more days! Schneizel's outta time!"

"I am uncertain," spoke up General Tomitaro Horii, a thin-faced officer on Tohdoh's staff. "Are these Glacier Fortresses as powerful as is made out? I mean, warships made of ice?"

"The _Taishan_ carries enough combat aircraft to equip a second-tier air force," Zero quipped in reply. "Along with significant missile and artillery armament. It can hold station without resupply for weeks at a time. Current Britannian doctrine requires at least six battlegroups to overwhelm a Glacier Fortress. Schneizel has four."

"And four more over at Hawaii," Horii retorted, not respectfully, but not quite in challenge. "If he brings them in, he might be able to destroy the _Taishan_ or drive it away."

"If he was going to, he would have done so by now," Tohdoh interjected, without opening his eyes. "Additional forces from Britannia would also have arrived by now."

There was a pause.

The Britannian garrison in Area 11 had numbered 650,000 combat personnel, a significant force by anyone's standards. And all of those had been regulars, with none from the paramilitary Colonial Security Forces, since Area 11 had been intended as a fortress to help dominate South-East Asia.

It was the great mystery of the campaign. _Why_ had no actual reinforcements been sent? Such a response was understandable early on, but with things going as badly for Britannia as they were, that no additional troops had been sent seemed utterly inexplicable. Especially considering the appearance of the Chinese navy. The Glacier Fortresses were glacial in two senses; firstly that they were essentially weaponized icebergs, secondly in terms of their speed. Four Carrier-battleships and their Destroyer escorts were a force to be reckoned with, easily capable of keeping smaller Chinese ships away long enough for the vulnerable transports to get through. But now, with one of the mountainous vessels closing in from the north and one of its sisters, the _Hengshan_, prowling the South-China Sea, the window for intervention was closing fast.

"We cannot afford to doubt ourselves at this point," Zero insisted, perhaps seeing where their thoughts were directed. "If this country is to be free of Britannia, we must push on." He gestured at the map, which zoomed in again to focus on the Keihanshin metropolitan region, in which the _Ohsahkah_ and _Kowbay _settlements were located. It was a vast urban sprawl around Osaka bay, around which the siege line was marked in red. Just to the north-east, near Kyoto, were three more icons, representing the three Divisions of Tohdoh's First Army Corps. They were the best-organised and equipped of the Japanese troops, numbering around fifty-thousand troops and three-hundred knightmares, along with fifty tanks.

That Tohdoh had been allowed to concentrate so much equipment and so many capable personnel in a single formation had been criticized as elitist, but since Zero had named him as the Commander-in-Chief, no one else was in a position to complain.

"With the fortifications almost complete, we will be in a position to assault Kobe in force. As I expected, the Britannians have sent reinforcements. These are their last known positions, as of an hour ago." A cluster of icons appeared to the north-west of Kobe, heading eastward. "A force of at least ten divisions. Their intent is most likely to strike at Kyoto from the north-west, cutting off our besieging forces." Zero looked straight at Tohdoh. "Marshal Tohdoh, I require you to take command of the 1st Corps upon our arrival, then move to engage and destroy this force." Tohdoh's face did not flicker, but there was consternation among his colleagues.

"Regent!" Horii protested. "If those divisions are at full strength, that's one-hundred-thousand troops and six-hundred knightmares!"

"Twice what Cornelia had at Narita," Chiba added darkly. "And we can't be sure how many tanks they have."

"You have faced such odds before, Tohdoh," Zero went on, ignoring them. "You are the only one I believe can do this. If you are successful, the Britannians will be significantly weakened. We may even be able to force their surrender."

This brought them up short. The possibility of ending the war at a stroke was too good to miss. But at such odds…

"As the Regent commands." Tohdoh stood up and nodded to Zero, which was about as much respect as he was likely to get from the man. "I will stop them here," he pointed at the map, "at Nantan."

"I'll leave it to you," Zero replied, then turned to Ougi. "Minister, what is the security situation?"

"We have the major cities in hand," Ougi reported. "The revolts in Iwate Prefecture have been put down, though not without bloodshed." He looked pained. "The insurrectionists had access to large stocks of small arms, which is why they were able to keep up the fight as long as they did. It's more than likely that they had support from groups in the countryside."

"My wishes in this matter were _quite_ explicit," Zero replied, a hiss of irritation in his tone. "The Britannians were not to be harmed unless they offered violence. Who started it?"

"It's difficult to say, Excellency." The pain in Ougi's countenance was supplanted with nervousness. "Reports are contradictory. But the situation being what it is, something was bound to happen sooner or later. We just never expected something on this scale."

"Such disorder cannot be tolerated," Zero growled, putting a new tension in the air. "If we are to build a peace in this land, then we cannot allow people to run around with guns doing whatever gets into their heads." The irony of what he was saying was not lost on those present, but no one felt like pointing it out.

"It gets worse," Tamaki spoke up before anyone could stop him. "Some of the Yakuza syndicates are getting out of hand. There've been reports of kidnappings from the Britannian communities."

"Tamaki, _I'm_ the Minister for Public Security," Ougi interjected.

"But you weren't gonna mention it," Tamaki retorted. "I know for a fact you weren't."

"_Instructions_," Zero hissed, the carriage falling silent. "There will be a public proclamation made immediately. Any person or group bearing arms must present themselves for armed service or else give up any and all weapons they possess. The deadline will be one week from the issuing of the proclamation. Anyone who fails to comply will be considered in violation of the civil peace."

Kallen saw the look on Ougi's face, and realised why he was keeping things back. _This_ was exactly what he was afraid of.

"Excellency," Ougi forced himself to speak. "I'm not sure such heavy-handedness will go down well…"

"This is not a popularity contest!" Zero snapped back, silencing the mild-mannered Ougi. "Order must be restored, for the sake of those who cannot defend themselves from these thugs!"

"I must concur with his Excellency on this," said General Tomoyuki Yamashita, another JSDF leftover and an old colleague of the late General Katase. "If those troublemakers want to fight and kill, they should be on the front lines!"

Kallen was not much surprised. Tohdoh had never liked being a Black Knight, never reconciled himself to fighting a guerrilla war. He was a professional soldier, and so were his colleagues present. Like all professional soldiers, they had little time for insurgents, for civilians who picked up weapons and tried to fight. They would like nothing better, Kallen suspected, to prove their superiority over the resistance fighters by either absorbing or crushing them.

Not that Kallen had much sympathy for them. She had seen what they got up to.

"Are we back in the Meiji era then!" Ougi protested, anguish in his eyes. "Must we maintain order by repression and violence!"

"You exaggerate, Ougi," Zero replied, his tone level. "We will only fight those who refuse to turn in their weapons. They will only die if they try to fight. We can also take this opportunity to bring the Yakuza to heel."

"Excellency, the people have not tasted freedom in over seven years!" Ougi wailed. "To snatch it away so soon would create resentment and resistance! They will see us as oppressors no different from the Britannians!"

"Freedom without order is chaos!" Zero snapped back. "When chaos reigns, the violent prey upon the non-violent. This is what they will do with their new-found freedom. It is human nature, and we must act to restrain it."

"Your Excellency, no one here contests that we must disarm the populace," Ougi managed to calm himself. "But to do so with threats and force would be counter-productive and inhumane. It would be far better to bring them in by negotiation."

"Negotiations!" Yamashita snorted. "Since when was a country built by compromise!"

"Since when did anyone actually try it?" Ougi retorted, now angry.

"We cannot build a new order on compromise!" Yamashita went on. "Those rebels will take us for everything we've got. They won't give up their arms or accept the rule of law without at least the _threat_ of force. It is a simple fact of governance."

"Is that the only way you can see people!" Ougi was appalled. "Excellency, why are…"

"Enough!" Zero snapped. _That_ got their attention. "The Provisional Diet named me as Regent. At one time or another you have all accepted my authority. To make this decision is my responsibility, and that decision stands. The Ministry of Public Security will make the declaration as I have instructed. I will do my utmost to persuade the armed factions to see reason." He looked around the room, seeing them all, noting the looks in their eyes and on their faces. Laksharta drew on her pipe.

"Everyone, I have no desire to drown Japan in blood, not now that she is free. That is in no one's interests. That is not what _Santa Euphemia_ would want." Kallen felt a sudden surge of feeling at the mention of her name. That seemed to be the intended effect, and it worked on the others too.

The meeting broke up shortly after that, and Tohdoh and his officers returned to their own carriage. The argument broke out almost immediately.

"Taking on a force twice our number is suicide!" Horii hissed. "It is as if he wants rid of us!"

"He's not completely deranged," retorted Yamashita. "If the 1st Corps is destroyed, there'll be nothing to stop that Britannian army from taking Kyoto. The blow to morale would probably be fatal."

"And what of his Imperial Majesty?" Torii said aloud what they were all thinking. "Who will guard him if we are away!"

For all their common purpose, for all their shared suffering, the Japanese forces were not united. Divisions of all kinds were breaking out, and one of the most crucial was happening in the ancient city of Kyoto itself.

When Britannia had smashed the Japanese nation and imposed its rule, the Japanese Emperor and his family had been treated with surprising forbearance. The Emperor had not been executed, nor were suitable members of the Imperial family married off to Britannian royalty. Instead they had been transferred to Kyoto, which in the past had been Japan's capital, there to reside under the watchful gaze of the collaborationist NAC, itself a catspaw of the Six Houses of Kyoto. For many Japanese, particularly in the military, the idea of the Son of Heaven being under the control of the Oligarchs was intolerable. It was not merely a question of loyalty, but of constitutional integrity. Despite a massive political shakeup following Japan's defeat in the First Pacific War over seventy years earlier, the Imperial Institution had survived in symbolic form, intended as a focus for loyalty and national feeling. The idea was that it would be separate from politics and the economy, that neither politicians nor business leaders would have _any_ power over it.

That was why the 1st Corps had been stationed near Kyoto in the first place. It was not simply to be in a position to support the Keihanshin siege lines, but also to oversee the Imperial family's transfer back to Tokyo once the Imperial Palace had been properly prepared. Fifty thousand troops would ensure that the former NAC would not try anything importunate.

For himself Tohdoh thought it unlikely, but the possibility that Zero would favour Kyoto could not be ignored.

"We cannot afford to be distracted by politics," he insisted, his tone firm. "We are soldiers, and our purpose is to fight. That we must ensure his Imperial Majesty's safety is all the more reason not to loose this battle." He opened his narrow eyes, scanning them over the Generals, who looked back in a mixture of expectation and suspicion. He glanced at Chiba, who looked the same as she always did.

"I did not say so at the meeting," he went on. "But I knew about the Britannian relief force."

"Marshal!" Horii protested, shocked.

"I did not know that it was on the move," Tohdoh admitted. "But I knew that it was gathering. I also know that it is the last mobile force available to the Britannians. If we can defeat it in one battle, then Kobe and Osaka will fall to us for certain."

"We have the chance," he raised his voice for effect, "to end this war once and for all. Prefect Andrew Barton is in Kobe. As the most senior surviving Prefect, he is de-facto Governor. If there is no relief, then he will almost certainly ask Prince Schneizel for permission to surrender. As further resistance would be pointless, I believe permission will be granted." He looked from one to the other again, fixing each with his stare.

"Can I count on you all? Will you make a supreme effort, for this chance for peace?"

Without hesitation, Chiba snapped her feet together and saluted. Yamashita did likewise, then Horii, then the rest. Tohdoh returned the salute, his face grim, his countenance resolute.

There was a clunk as the train slowed down. They had arrived.

_**

* * *

**__**Now**_

_**Tokyo, Free State of Japan, June 28th 2018 ATB**_

Villetta Nu felt the water drip off her as she climbed out of the pool.

It was one of the few perks of her situation. Fifty laps of the pool every morning was not only a good way to wake up, but kept her in reasonable physical condition. She could not allow herself to go soft.

She strode towards the teachers' changing room, ignoring the surreptitious stares that were coming her way. She knew about them, of course. She knew the spots they favoured to observe the pool without being seen. She had a pretty good idea of who they were too. But she did not have time to chase the matter up. She had bigger concerns than a bunch of teenage boys feeling their oats.

She was not merely Miss Villetta Nu the Gym Mistress. She was _Baroness_ Villetta Nu, RPI, attached to the OSI.

The changing room was smaller than the ones available to the students, and was also deserted. It was a matter of a few moments to strip off her bathing suit, towel off, and get dressed. This done, she headed to her office, deciding to get some of the daily paperwork done while she was refreshed and energized. No sense it letting it pile up.

She closed the door behind her, and had to will herself not to lock it. Her office was a sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos around her. It wasn't Ashford Academy, or not _just_ Ashford Academy, it was _everything_. Though the Black Knights seemed to have restored some kind of order, there was still a tension in the air.

She had never intended to stay behind. Once she had made contact, she had expected to be ordered to escape. Instead she was kept waiting for several days, surviving as best she could in the ruins of the _Towkyow_ Settlement. When they called her back, it was to direct her to rendezvous with a group of OSI agents, who were in the same situation as herself.

Now she was stuck working with them. They spent much of their time in their base in the water tunnels under the Academy, while kept an eye on things on the surface. They genuinely believed that their work was vital, that they were providing valuable information on the newly liberated Japan.

That was a laugh. Villetta had seen Tokyo since the Black Rebellion. She had walked its streets, smelt the air, heard things that she was not meant to hear. The id ea that they could actually accomplish anything was the worst joke she had heard in a long time. It was obvious that Zero knew of their existence and was _allowing_ them to carry on. It was the only reason she could think of why they hadn't already been arrested.

And the things she had learnt. That Prince Lelouch and Princess Nunnally, long thought dead in the invasion eight years ago, were in fact alive. Not merely alive, but studying at Ashford Academy under an assumed surname. That was, as it happened, why the OSI had a base in the water tunnels.

She felt a pang of pity for her old commander whenever she thought of the revelation. Jeremiah Gottwald, who could never forgive himself for failure, had blamed himself for their mother's death. He had laboured under the belief that the children were dead, and that he was ultimately responsible for it. A poisonous mix of remorse and ambition had driven him on to his end. And he had never known that they were alive.

To make matters worse, she was now certain that Prince Lelouch was a member of the Black Knights, though in what capacity she had no idea. The very idea that a member of the Imperial family was involved with a terrorist gang was shocking in itself, though Villetta could understand his reasons to some extent. If they had Princess Nunnally, or if Zero was willing to help him find her, then she could hardly blame him.

Now he had flown the coop, off to the EU with Zero, apparently attending an event of some sort in Ruritania. Doubtless their intentions were to disrupt the peace process and keep the EU in the war.

Villetta knew she had to do something. She had been dropped into the centre of a plot both wide-ranging and deadly, and all she could do was take the initiative. She suspected that those idiots downstairs knew more than they were letting on, but they would never take her into their confidence. She was an outsider, and the OSI was as secretive as it was arrogant. She would have to do it herself.

Turning to her laptop, it was a matter of a few clicks and a moment's patience to bring up a list of the available flights from the newly-rebuilt Tokyo International Airport. She could get a flight to Hong Kong easily enough, and from there to anywhere in the world. Hong Kong International was also very large and very well-used, so she would have no trouble losing any pursuit. It would, all in all, be a simple matter to get herself to Ruritania and find out what was going on. And she might encounter Ougi.

That brought her up short. She did not like to think about that man, the man who had cared for her during her amnesia, the man who had called her _Chigusa_, the man she had shot in cold blood, not far from the office in which she was sitting.

Her fists clenched as she remembered. She had been with him, depended on him, she had even been an _Eleven_ for him, and not minded. She remembered everything she had done, everything she had said, every look on his face. She had temporarily become something other than herself, someone called Chigusa. And _he_ had been there throughout. He had borne witness to her humiliation, her subjection, her unwitting transformation.

He had looked so helpless, so disbelieving, when she put that bullet in his stomach. He wouldn't have been down for long, she supposed, not with modern medicine. She could have put a bullet through his heart at that range, and his chances of survival would still have been good. She should have put one through his head while he was down, for no medicine could have re-fashioned his brain. She should have finished him while she had the chance.

But she had not done so. There had been no time to fight her feelings, to fight Chigusa, not with the sound of running footsteps in the corridor outside. She had told herself later that it was an act of mercy, and perhaps he was deserving of it, at least that one time.

He had been so kind, after all, in his bumbling way. He had probably never been with a woman before in his life. Typical Japanese male.

A knock on the door drew her from her thoughts.

"Come in!" The door opened, and a girl in the pink Junior-High uniform stepped through. Villetta recognized her immediately. "Ah, Alice, do sit down." The girl named Alice did as she was instructed, sitting in the chair on the other side of the desk. She had dark blond hair, done in a pair of pigtails, and determined-looking eyes.

"You are away of the…situation?"

"Yes, Miss Villetta." She seemed prim and proper, sitting there with her legs together and her hands laid neatly on her knees, but Villetta knew her well enough not to be fooled.

"Our mutual friends have decided to be reasonable after all," she began. "I have persuaded them to acknowledge your…_services_, and I believe they will leave you alone."

"Thank you, Miss Villetta."

"Alice," Villetta paused, choosing her words carefully. "I understand that you were close to…Miss Lamperouge. I'm sorry that we haven't been able to find out more." Alice took this with apparent equanimity.

"Incidentally, what is the situation with your parents."

"I'd rather not discuss it, Miss Villetta."

"Alice," Villetta sighed. She really didn't want to have to deal with this, but it was part of her job as a teacher. "I know that you've had some difficult times with your parents, but they're still your parents."

"I'm tired of hating, Miss Villetta," Alice replied, her tone level. "Hate is all they're good for. They…can't let go."

Villetta understood. Three years earlier Alice's younger sister had been killed in a terrorist bombing of the clinic in which she was being treated for her disability. From what Villetta had heard, it had sent Alice into a downward spiral. She had become bad-tempered, apathetic, even violent at times. An unlikely friendship with Nunnally had helped her to recover, to bid her sister farewell and find new happiness in her life. Her parents had not, for whatever reason, been able to do likewise.

"I understand," she said eventually. "I hope nonetheless that this can be resolved satisfactorily." She dismissed Alice, and once the girl had left her office she returned her attention to the laptop. One ticket to Hong Kong, and she would get the next one at her destination. If she bought both now, an interested party would be able to track her with ease.

It was strange, she sometimes thought, how easily she had taken to the spying game.

_**

* * *

**__**EUROFORCE Testing Facility, Ruritania, EU, June 27th 2018 ATB **_

Magnus Constantian surveyed the scene before him.

From above, it was just another valley, the gap between two mountains not far from the Ruritanian town of Zenda. It was sufficiently inaccessible, and distant from the town, that few in the EU, even the world, knew what went on there.

He was outside for the moment, the breeze funnelling down the valley to cool his face, or that part of it that was accessible between the peaked cap and the high collar of his uniform jacket. The others standing nearby were dressed in a similar fashion.

Before him were two _Orlando _Knightmare frames, both painted dark green. One had what appeared to be a bazooka balanced upon its right shoulder, whereas the other carried what looked like a conventional assault rifle, or so it appeared from a distance. It was sleek, black, and featureless, aside from the forward nozzle.

These were not weapons of the usual sort. They were experimental, and this was a test.

The two knightmares faced down the valley. Opposite them, three kilometres away, were two more knightmares, a pair of reconstructed Britannian _Sutherland_s, rigged for remote control.

At a pre-arranged signal, the _Orlando_ clumped forward, putting distance between itself and its fellow_._ Further down the valley, Magnus made out a flash of blue streaking left and right as it advanced. He calculated the particulars in his head.

"_Three kilometres, standard zig-zag pattern._ _One shot, maybe two._"

The _Orlando_ hefted its bazooka, taking aim as the _Sutherland_ raced closer.

It was not like any weapon Magnus had ever seen. The sight of it came first, light being faster than sound. The space between the two knightmares was occupied by what appeared to be a bright flash, and only then did he hear the sound, a strange hissing screech. The knightmare seemed to glow as the flash touched it. It continued on its course, tripping over and tumbling along, collapsing into smoking wreckage.

Magnus could hear the mutterings of his fellow observers. He could tell that they were impressed. _He_ was impressed.

As the _Orlando_ clumped back to its position, R&D personnel swarming towards it, the other moved forward into the firing position. The attention of the audience quickly returned to the action as the other _Sutherland_ began to move. It moved in much the same way, rapidly zig-zagging as Britannian pilots often did, intending to confuse the _Orlando_'s factsphere. The _Orlando'_s visor flashed red, as if with bloodlust. It aimed its weapon one-handed, with greater ease than the _Orlando_'s bazooka.

It fired. The flash, the screech, the glow. The _Sutherland _came apart.

Magnus continued to regard the machine as the other observers burst into a round of applause. He waited until the applause died down, and he could feel their attention turn to him. He was the Colonel, after all.

"I trust it was to your liking, Colonel Constantian?" He recognised the voice immediately, as the person he had _least_ wanted to see.

"It was, Captain." He forced himself to turn and face Julien Dantes, of the EUROFORCE Paladin Corps. His body was lean and powerful, clad in a finely-tailored uniform. His face was delicately-featured, with narrow blue eyes and long blond hair. While Magnus had been with the JL Brigade, the Japanese troops had nicknamed him _Oscar-sama, _though never within his earshot.

Julien looked like a dandy, but he was a first-rate knightmare pilot. He was also an effete, womanizing fop. This was not what bothered Magnus though.

"It's unfortunate really," Julien examined his fingernails. "They insisted on blowing all that money on EUROSHIELD when _this_ delightful technology was around."

"It cost Britannia a million men just to break Fortress Santiago," Magnus retorted. "It was worth the expense."

"Ever the grizzled soldier," Julien smirked. "You made Colonel, for which I should thank you since it made me rather rich, but you're completely lacking in social graces. It's something we'll have to remedy."

"I'm not one for small talk, Captain Dantes," Magnus replied. "But I don't understand how I made you rich."

"Poor former classmate!" Julien laughed aloud. "We had a bet, with a quite substantial pot, on how far you'd go. I was the only one who betted on you making Colonel before you got killed. Thus I got rich. But enough of that," Julien's eyes sparkled. "We have a mission for you in Strelsau in a couple of days."

"What would that be?"

"The King is holding a Soiree, and _you_," Julien's grin widened, "are required to attend."

Magnus felt an unfamiliar surge of irritation bordering on anger.

"Come now Magnus," Julien chuckled, noting his reaction. "You've been avoiding the social season for far too long. Besides, the King asked for you personally. You are quite famous it seems."

Magnus had a horrible feeling that he knew why. His role in the fighting in Africa had been extensive. Upon leaving the EUROFORCE academy in Vienna in 2014, aged only twenty, his first assignment had been to the JL Brigade as a Lieutenant.

It had not been easy. The Japanese had resented him, not for anything he did, but for what he was. Not enough former JSDF officers had been found to fill the officer ranks, necessitating the assignment of men like himself. The enlisted men had taken this as a slight, thinking that EUROFORCE did not take them seriously. They were right.

But off to Africa they had gone. He had risen to Captain after his first battle, after the death of Captain Saito. He had been promoted over the heads of his fellow Lieutenants, all Japanese, because he was on the fast-track list, thanks to his performance at the academy. It served to further increase the rancour among the troops.

It had taken time to prove himself, to prove to the Japanese that he took them seriously, even if EUROFORCE did not. The raid on a Britannian base, in which they acquired a captured _Bamides_ land-cruiser, had helped somewhat. The vehicle had become the Brigade's MCV, in imitation of the Britannian G-1 mobile bases.

It had always surprised him how their feelings had changed. Men had died under his leadership, both in victory and defeat. But they had ceased to resent him, and had gradually come to trust him. He had made Major by the end of his first year in Africa, and was the only non-Japanese officer left in the Brigade. Given only four months of down-time, the Brigade was back into action once again, and again, and again. By 2016 he was a Lieutenant Colonel, leader of a brigade of battle-hardened troops who trusted him with their lives, aged only twenty-three. It would have been inconceivable before the war, but dead men's shoes had to be filled, and officer casualties were rising higher and higher up the ladder.

It was the knightmares that caused it. They occupied a niche between infantry and armoured vehicles, promising highly mobile firepower in an easily transportable package. The Britannians had used theirs aggressively, their _Albatross_ transports flying low at daredevil speeds, dropping their deadly cargo as close to the targets as they dared. The _Albatross_ was well-suited to such work, with heavy armour, plenty of gun turrets, and an advanced countermeasure package. When the EU forces had deployed additional low-altitude air defences to counter this, the Britannians had switched increasingly to the smaller horseshoe-shaped VTOL transporters. Either way, it made battles all the more unpredictable, and meant that no one was completely safe. Overall casualty rates had increased, and officers normally less likely to die found themselves in line of fire.

By the deaths of his superiors had he risen. By the deaths of his subordinates had he proven himself. By the deaths of Britannians had he stayed alive. By victory after victory had he become a hero.

"We simply must show you off, Magnus," Julien went on. "It's for our public image, after all. Some quite interesting people will be there, and they'll want to see you."

"Like whom?"

"Like whom?" Julien's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Like Zero, for one."

"The insurgent?"

"Indeed. I think King Rudolph wanted a better look at him, so he and his _entourage_ have been invited." Julien gave a high-pitched chuckle. "Since you actually led our Japanese comrades for a while, I think they'll want to meet you. Morisato will be coming also, and I'll be along too, so you won't want for moral support."

Julien Dantes was the last person Magnus wanted moral support from. On the other hand he hadn't seen Ichijo Morisato, the man who had taken over the Brigade from him, since their return to Europe.

"Also," Julien sounded worryingly amused. "There's a EUROMED delegation coming too, consisting of a certain Doctor Gunner and his nearest," Julien gave Magnus a meaningful look. "I'm told you knew the good Doctor."

"My classmate at school," Magnus admitted. But it was not _him_ he was worried about seeing.

"Then you'll have a marvellous time I'm sure. Well, I'd best be off. Office politics you know." Julien gave him a just-about-acceptable salute, which Magnus returned, and headed off towards another group of officers.

Magnus sighed inwardly. He had never been one for social occasions. On the other hand, it might be an opportunity to catch up with some old comrades. What was more, he might be able to find out what was going on in EUROFORCE.

He needed some idea of what he was to do.

_**

* * *

**__**Arras, France, June 28th 2018 ATB **_

Suzaku felt rather awkward.

Having to wait in the elegant foyer of the chateau had not been the problem. Having to wait with _Nina_ was what made him feel uncomfortable.

They had not spoken in many months, not since just before the Black Rebellion. Once a mousy schoolgirl with a penchant for nuclear fission, now head of the _In Vogue_ research bureau. Now she was sitting next to him, clad in the red uniform of her post. Suzaku had also made sure to dress properly, wearing the white uniform he'd worn on the day he was knighted. It was the only suitable outfit he owned.

It felt like many hours had passed by the time a servant, whom Suzaku suspected was actually an OSI agent, came to show them to Prince Faramond's chambers.

The door was opened in front of them. The room was quite large, decorated with the same 18th-century décor as the rest of the chateau. Both stood just inside the door, wondering where the Prince was. There was a desk at the other hand, the seat covered in a black cloth. The lights were low, and it was already evening, casting the room in shadow.

"Come forward," croaked an unseen voice, making them both jump. Then Suzaku realised that it was not a cloth. There was a person sitting there, his back to them, scratching away with a quill pen.

"Your Highness?" Suzaku glanced at Nina, and saw if anything she was more unsettled than he was.

"Please…make yourselves comfortable." The figure put down the quill and rose from the chair. What he had thought to be a cloth was in fact a black cloak. It hung around the Prince like a shroud as he stepped away from the desk. Decided that it would be rude not to, Suzaku headed for the large sofa in the centre of the room, followed closely by Nina. Once Faramond had seated himself in the chair opposite, they both sat down.

"My uncle sent you here," Faramond's voice croaked from under the hood. With the sun going down, and the lights in the room already low, they could not make out his face.

"I trust your journey was…agreeable?"

"It was, your Highness."

"I have…had refreshments brought. They will arrive presently." Faramond paused a moment. "You find my appearance disquieting?"

"It is merely unusual, your Highness," Suzaku decided on honesty. It was easier than trying maintain a deception, and felt better than obsequiousness.

"Please excuse it. I am…unaccustomed to showing my person."

Suzaku could not believe what he was seeing. Was this _creature_ his dear Euphemia's nephew? There seemed little resemblance in personality, though he had no means of comparing their appearance. Euphemia had been bright, vivacious, welcoming. Faramond was not ungracious, but to cover himself in a cloak and hood? The only skin he could make out was that of his hands, which was decidedly pasty. Combined with his croaking voice, it suggested a life spent in dark rooms scratching away with a pen when he really should have been getting healthy exercise, sunshine, and making friends.

Suzaku found himself wondering how Euphemia could have allowed this to happen.

"Your Highness, please forgive my immoderate request," Suzaku stood up, and dropped to one knee. Nina looked at him in horror, no doubt terrified of causing offence. "Would it please your Highness to lower your hood?"

Faramond did not reply. Nina looked as if she was about to have a heart attack.

"I…knew your Highness' aunt, Princess Euphemia," Suzaku went on, heart pounding. "It is an immodest wish, but I desire to see your Highness' face."

Without a word, Faramond raised his hands to his hood, slipping it off his head. Suzaku looked up. The face he saw was by no means unpalatable. It was finely-proportioned, reminding him somewhat of Nunnally, with very large blue eyes. The hair was brown and curly. He looked to be about Nunnally's age.

"_He looks like Prince Oddyseus indeed,_" Suzaku thought. "_The rumours must be true._"

"You may be seated, Sir Suzaku," Faramond said, looking decidedly unsettled. "It was rude of me to conceal myself so." Suzaku complied. Nina stared at him in apparent fascination. When Faramond turned to regard her, she looked away in sudden panic, embarrassed for staring.

"You are Nina Einstein, yes?"

"I am…your Highness," Nina managed to stifle her usual stammer. Suzaku wondered if she had been taking speech therapy, or whether she was simply more confident as a result of her important position and work.

"My uncle tells me you have been working as head of _In Vogue_," Faramond went on. Suzaku could not help but think he was forcing out the words. "Do you…find it agreeable?"

"Most agreeable, your Highness." Suzaku wondered how much Faramond knew about Project Damocles. He himself only knew that it was eating a significant proportion of Prince Schneizel's personal fortune, and that it was crucial to the Prince's future plans. It was a tricky issue for both of them. Suzaku could not be sure who knew what, and who was supposed to know what.

"Is your Highness familiar with our work?" Nina spoke up, her words coming out too quickly.

"I am…somewhat familiar with it." If Faramond was offended by the minor breach of etiquette, he made no show of it. He paused as a servant entered with a tray of refreshments. The Prince took nothing, but waited until the servant left before continuing.

"My uncle is most concerned about the course of the Empire," Faramond went on, his voice croaking less than before. "He fears that if the Empire continues upon its present course, it will lead to disaster. The economy is in dire straits. Our military strength is insufficient to continue the war with any likelihood of success. Our best hope is to end all fighting and significantly reduce military spending until the economy has recovered. My uncle's treaty with the EU is vital for this, and war with the Chinese Federation must be avoided also."

"Your Highness is uncommonly wise," Suzaku replied, and he meant it.

"My uncle fears that Britannia will not easily take to this, however," Faramond went on. "The people desire prosperity and are proud of our military strength. They will react badly if the war ends in anything other than victory, and if the armed forces are cut back. They may listen instead to those who promise wealth and glory in return for obedience. They may instead seek to regain control of Japan."

Suzaku saw the look Faramond was giving him. He was mildly surprised that the Prince referred to his homeland as _Japan_ instead of _Area 11._ He had more in common with Euphemia than was apparent.

He did not like to think of the country that had once been his home. He had killed his own father to spare its people the horrors of war. He had lived with the shame of it for seven long years. He had served in the army of his country's conqueror, rising to become a Princess' knight. He had betrayed his country in order to save it, and had found new hope in her bright eyes.

But now she was dead, and he had been unable to resist the Black Rebellion, having been stabbed by none other than Kallen Kozuki. He had woken up in an Infirmary bed aboard the _Great Britannia,_ and was told by a harassed-looking orderly that Japan was under the control of the Black Knights.

It had all been for nothing. He had killed his own father, despoiled his honour, lost the one person he had ever truly loved, for nothing. Zero had won.

Suzaku shivered as he remembered. Since those days he had descended further and further into hell. First was the knowledge that his Princess was indeed dead, a revelation delivered by none other than the Emperor himself. He told of how she had succumbed in the treatment room of her GCV, of how her body was hurriedly cremated and her ashes scattered. They could not risk the body of an Imperial Princess being despoiled by the rebels, after all.

He had never got the chance to say goodbye.

Then there was the affair in China, when Zero had disgraced him _again_. After that he had been transferred to the European front, where he had taken part in the two-month-long bloodbath known later as the Santiago campaign. Even Anya had dubbed it hell.

"Sir Suzaku?" the voice brought him out of it. Suzaku looked up to see Faramond looking at him with what might have been concern in his eyes. "Are you unwell?"

"I…I was afflicted by bad memories, your Highness. Please excuse my conduct."

"Might I be of any help to you?" The Prince's words took him by surprise, and he remembered what Schneizel had told him.

"It's just that…" Faramond faltered. "Aunt Euphie…I mean, Princess Euphemia spoke very highly of you."

"I…have but one request," he replied, daring to ask the unthinkable. "Will you play your flute for us, your Highness?" Nina squeaked in shock at the request, frantically double-taking between Faramond and Suzaku.

"It is…no great matter." Faramond reached under his cloak and pulled out a flute. "Have you a request?"

"Does your Highness know _Sakura Sakura_?"

"Yes." He raised the flute to his lips, and began to play.

_**

* * *

**__**Beijing, Capital of the Chinese Federation, June 28th 2018 ATB**_

The zeppelin was enormous.

Zero found he could not take his eyes off it. The enormous airship loomed in front as the cars raced across the tarmac, bearing himself and his companions to it. It was three-hundred metres long, its silver hull emblazoned with the logo of the Zeppelin Airship Company. The hull itself was a stretched oval, with engines at fore and aft. It was an airborne monolith, a relic of a more civilized and hopeful age. Its name, Zero had been told, was _Sachsen_.

It was a curious thing, all told, that such a thing should exist in modern times. For all their elegance and luxury, it would take the _Sachsen _anything up to forty-eight hours to reach Ruritania, even though they would gain seven hours on account of the time zones. Zeppelins had flourished in the EU out of desire to escape from reliance on middle-eastern oil, and the attendant geopolitical complications. Their propeller engines were powered by sakuradite Energy-Fillers, like any number of other vehicles and appliances. Improvements in technology allowed them to fly higher and faster than before.

It had not been Zero's idea to go by zeppelin, but he had gone along with it anyway. It was preferable to spending thirteen hours in a confined space with little or no privacy. The leisurely pace would allow him time to prepare for the next phase of Plan Sekigahara and give any interested parties cause to think that he was in no hurry. This would imply that he had no particular plans beyond making waves in Europe.

He doubted that it would fool Schneizel. He knew the Second Prince too well for that. But it would cause just enough complacency in others to avoid or at least minimize complications. When playing a game of chess with Schneizel, the last thing he needed was distraction.

They reached the boarding gantry and got out of the cars. After minimal preamble, brief pleasantries with the _Sachsen_'s officers, catching up with Konoe and the diplomatic staff, making sure no one had gotten lost, they boarded. A steward led the Black Knights officers to their staterooms, while the diplomatic staff had their staterooms nearby. The rank-and-file Black Knights chosen for the mission were bunked in the cheaper accommodation. Zero found himself walking with Kaguya and Kallen as they followed the steward along the wide corridor.

"I trust her Imperial Majesty was well?" Zero commented to Kaguya. After their formal meeting, Kaguya had spent some private time with Tianzi while the rest of the Black Knights had concluded their 'business' in Beijing. Zero suspected that many of them had used it as an opportunity for sightseeing and shopping.

"Quite well," Kaguya replied, giggling at a secret only she knew.

"You have made all necessary preparations for the Soiree?"

"I have!" Kaguya was most enthused. "We'll have plenty of time for the final fittings on our way. Our own Red Lotus will look perfect!"

"Kaguya-sama!" Kallen protested, blushing. "The dress is fine as it is, really!"

"Oh but we have to get everything right!" Kaguya insisted, eyes sparkling dangerously. "We want to make Lelouch chew on his liver," this last she said in a pronounced stage whisper, "don't we?" Zero chuckled under his mask, knowing that the Lelouch to which she was referring was currently Sayoko in disguise. The irony of it was most amusing. What was more, she did not seem to have recognised his other self. Then again, their last meeting was eight years earlier at the Kururugi shrine. It was no great surprise if she did not remember?

Zero settled himself in his ample stateroom, as a protesting Kallen was dragged away by Kaguya. The bed was very large, intended for one but big enough for two. The stateroom came with a desk, its own bathroom, and a chair by the window, which extended right along one wall. The stateroom was more like that of a luxury liner than an aircraft.

He felt only a slight shift as the _Sachsen_ ascended. He stood at the window for a while, watching Beijing get smaller and smaller beneath him. He could start his preparations once the _Sachsen_ had levelled-off.

Yes, it was good to travel in style.

**

* * *

****(I'm glad I finally got this done. I apologise for rushing the time in Beijing, but I needed to get this story moving. Due to a planning error, info on the Space Blinders will have to wait for the next chapter.**

**Just to explain Alice's appearance, it was WDCain, whose review was incidentally the longest I've ever received, who suggested I include the perspective of ordinary Britannians, something I had considered doing. I chose Alice because I thought it better to use a well-known character than create another OC.) **

**Retcon **

**I have updated the dates in light of information from the Light Novels, and added the part where Suzaku makes the **_**Sakura Sakura **_**request to Faramond. Also I removed the **_**Lupo**_** in favour of two **_**Orlando**_** knightmares. I have other plans for the **_**Lupo.**_


	9. The Sagacity of Uncertainty

Chapter Nine: The Sagacity of Uncertainty

_Aspire to be like Mt. Fuji, with such a broad and solid foundation that the strongest earthquake cannot move you, and so tall that the greatest enterprises of common men seem insignificant from your lofty perspective. With your mind as high as Mt Fuji you can see all things clearly. And you can see all the forces that shape events; not just the things happening near to you. _

_Miyamoto Musashi_

_**Now**_

_**Airship **_**Sachsen**_**, over the Middle East, June 29th 2018 ATB**_

It was quite pleasant, or so Lelouch thought.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, he actually had time to sit and read. Admittedly the reading was work-related, but it was still a change. After rising, he had eaten a rather luxurious breakfast, then examined the selection of books that had been waiting for him when he arrived. The Company was as good as its word, and every book he requested had been provided. It was good, he thought, to be able to enjoy himself for a little while. It was good for the others too.

His seat was just next to the window, giving him a constant supply of sunlight. He reclined in the chair, a very large book propped open in the crook of his arm. His mask sat on top of a pile of equally large books at his elbow. The index finger of his right hand sat on the top corner of the page, ready to turn. The title of the book was _Unity in Diversity: Understanding the European Ultra-Union._

The EU being what it was, the book was very large and very detailed.

Lelouch being who he was, he had gotten through two such books already.

The EU's power structure, though seemingly simple and rational in its layout, was anything but. Terms like _byzantine _or _labyrinthine_ were not quite sufficient either.

Each of the member entities, usually dubbed _member states_, had a semi-autonomous government, usually a parliamentary democracy or something along those lines. These in turn sent representatives by direct election to the EU's own legislative assembly, the Central Hemicycle, often dubbed _Cent-Hem._ This was presided over by the President of the Council of Ministers, which was made up of appointed representatives of the national governments and the various pan-European organisations. It met in various compositions depending on the business at hand, and acted in an executive capacity under certain circumstances. The Judicial branch was represented by the EU Court of Justice, which handled matters pertaining to the member states, and the Court of First Instance, which handled matters pertaining to individuals and companies. The Council of Magistrates presided over them, along with the EU Court of Human Rights, which was responsible for enforcing the Strasbourg Convention.

There were also the various Pan-European cooperatives. EUROFORCE, which was the EU's rapid-deployment army; EUROSEC for the Security services; EUROMED for the Medical profession; EUROPOL for regular Police forces; EUROARMPOL for the Gendarmeries, EUROCIV for the Civil services; and so on.

But all this was comparatively simple and easy to understand. What got them every time were the laws.

Laws upon laws upon laws. The book listed the EU Constitution in its entirety. Were it not for the convenient little notes and explanations provided by the book, a legal degree would be required to fully understand it. They had laws for all occasions, with every conceivable eventuality covered.

Fortunately Lelouch was accustomed to complex reading material. His mother and tutors back at the Palace had noted his cleverness at a young age, and had seen no reason to hold him back. He had devoured books intended for boys twice his age. As he read through the books, all of which were considered by erudite reviews to be the finest and most comprehensive sources on the EU, he was getting a clearer and clearer idea of how the EU functioned.

For all its byzantine complexity, the EU seemed to work. It worked so long as those who governed it accepted the principles of collegiality and cooperation. The EU's decentralized nature was one of its greatest strengths. One could destroy its Capital at Brussels, but the EU as a whole would continue to function. The Britannian SIS had tried every trick it could think of to destabilize the EU from within, playing on national self-interest and war-weariness to try and get the member states to disagree, to start undermining eachother. They had apparently failed to understand the EU's true nature. They did not realise that the state governments were in no real position to act independently, regardless of what some in their populations might think. If a member state were to attempt withdrawal, it's political, administrative, economic, and social structures would be thrown into chaos. The EU was everywhere and nowhere, a supra-national bureaucracy that belonged to no one nation or state, but was open to all, and sought to draw everything into itself. Its heartland was wherever it was accepted, an elite culture that could call itself truly _European_.

But Schneizel _had_ understood. He had understood one or two crucial facts. He had understood what _really_ held the EU together.

Fear. Fear of the other. Fear of those unlike themselves. Fear of a hostile world, in which their peaceful, law-abiding, benevolent societies seemed too good to be true. They feared the advent of harsh reality, calling time on their dream world, casting them back into the abyss of poverty, tyranny, and bigotry.

A fortress mentality pervaded European thinking, especially in terms of defence. Unwilling to expand their mobile forces, yet fearful of outside attack, the EU had spent vast sums on the most advanced defence network military science could devise. Dubbed EUROSHIELD, it consisted of a network of underground bunkers, connected by tunnels, stretching right across Europe and Russia. Anti-ship missiles, anti-aircraft missiles, artillery pieces; the bunkers served them all. Therein they could take refuge, refuelling and rearming, before driving out to do battle. They moved around regularly to avoid counter-battery fire, while their supplies and support infrastructure were safe underground. Only the most critical points actually included static defences, such as Fortress Santiago, which covered the vital _Pillars of Hercules _straits between Spain and Morocco. When one factored in the Space Blinders, capable of rendering satellite telemetry so unreliable as to be useless, 'smart' warfare became almost completely impracticable. There were no tricks, no ways in.

Only a full frontal assault, the one thing the designers had not expected, could have broken through. Schneizel's target had been Santiago, out of a need to bring his warships into the Mediterranean, but also because he understood the mentality of the Spanish government. Spain might be in no position to stand alone in a cold, dangerous world, but it still had one crucial power. Control of the State armies was the last vestige of meaningful national sovereignty in the EU. Schneizel also knew that civilians and politicians understood EUROSHIELD somewhat differently to the soldiers. The officers and men of EUROFORCE and the State armies understood EUROSHIELD's strengths and weaknesses. They understood its limitations, and knew how best to use it. All too many others saw it as an impenetrable barrier, the guarantee of safety. To break it was to shatter Spain's, and perhaps Europe's, morale. It would cost Britannia one million dead, and two million wounded, maimed, and mentally deranged.

Spain had started returning Schneizel's calls. He had convinced Spain's government that nothing bad would happen. All it had to do was pull back the troops, order them to let the Britannians pass. They need not help, just so long as they did not hinder. The war would soon end, and the EU would take them back. There would be no Settlements, no Numbers, no Area. He, Schneizel el Britannia, only wanted peace.

Fear of the other had been overwhelmed by fear of the army on their doorstep. They capitulated, giving Schneizel safe passage. He made the same offer to Portugal, to France, and to Russia. Sooner or later they did likewise. For so many years they believed that to lose was to suffer the same fate as Japan. Schneizel had shown them that this was not the case. He had given them a simple choice: surrender and be treated kindly, or fight on and be totally destroyed.

It had worked on the governments, but not on the people. Lelouch had also taken the time to read the latest reports provided by Diethard. The occupied states were riven with partisan activity, at least tolerated by local authorities, the governments seemingly powerless to do anything about it. This was not of any apparent concern to Schneizel. Even when the King of Spain had resurfaced in Toledo, with Spanish troops and volunteers flocking to his banner, he had treated the Spanish government's pleadings with gentle condescension. He had no intention of inconveniencing a fellow monarch for the sake of useful idiots. For although their father was apparently still alive, Lelouch suspected that Schneizel was the true Emperor.

This policy was not without cost. It was downright dangerous. If the talks broke down and the war started up again, his troops in the occupied regions would be vulnerable not only to partisan attacks, but actions by regular troops, whom he had made no apparent effort to disarm or imprison. Was he naïve? Was he desperate? Or was it a plan?

He had annoyed a lot of powerful and wealthy Britannians by his policy. The Corporations who made such a profit from the Settlements; the ordinary people for whom they provided opportunities that were otherwise unavailable. But what had caused disappointment and even anger all across Britannian society was the issue of one particular country.

"_This happy breed of men, this little world, this precious stone set in a silver'd sea,_

_which serves it in the office of a wall, or as a moat defensive to a house, against the envy of less happier lands. This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England._"

It was in present times called the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. It was Britannia's long-lost home, a place for which it had a strange and almost pitiable longing. Since an ailing Elizabeth III had passed the succession her lover, Ricardo Van Britannia, the two had been forever apart, the gulf as wide as the ocean that divided them.

Lelouch knew _that_ story. He knew it very well.

Great Britain had received a new King in the unprepossessing form Michael Tudor, younger brother of the ill-starred Elizabeth, put on the throne by Napoleon. This should by all rights have doomed him in the eyes of history as a puppet King, a _collaborator_. Shy and amenable, unwilling to make waves, Michael was unable and unwilling to force his will on Parliament. Finally, after two centuries of absolute rule, Parliament was able to play a meaningful role in government. Never again would a King of Great Britain force his will on it. And never again would a King of Great Britain be forced from his throne. Such was the compact.

It was in the year 1813 AD that matters came to a head. With Napoleon reeling from his defeat in Russia, the German states grew restless. After the Emperor's defeat at Leipzig the German states turned on him, another nail in the coffin of the French Empire. Having been forewarned of this possibility, Great Britain went along with them, playing the patriotism card with exquisite timing, erasing the memory of collaboration. But the triumph was tinged with tragedy, as word arrived from North America of the death of Queen Elizabeth. The sorrow turned to anger when it was revealed that Ricardo Van Britannia, her toy-boy lover, had been named as her successor.

Ricardo sent a letter to Michael, praising his benevolent rule, then practically ordering him to step down. If Ricardo truly believed that he could take the crown for himself, then he had not understood what had been happening since the Edinburgh Disgrace. Parliament knew that if allowed to take power, Ricardo would almost certainly attempt to reintroduce absolutism. Having no desire to surrender their new-found power, they urged Michael to resist. The majority of the ordinary people and the new class of wealthy industrialists likewise favoured resistance.

All this distressed Michael greatly. He feared that if he resisted Ricardo's claim, then the British Empire would be split apart, the English-speaking world plunged into fratricidal war. Days of cajoling by the Prime Minister and numerous others, including a certain Sir Walter Scott, eventually persuaded him that _not_ to resist would do even greater harm.

But events were moving in India also. Though most of the sub-continent was already under the control of the British East-India Company, the Sikh Empire to the north remained unconquered. Its armies were trained by French experts and equipped with the latest weapons. Its coffers were filled with gold and silver by neighbouring China, nervous of British ambitions. Upon hearing of the chaos in Europe its formidable one-eyed Maharaja, Ranjit Singh, saw the chance of a lifetime, raising his war-banner against British rule. While his armies defeated all sent against them, he used the gold and silver to buy allies, especially the subjected Indian rulers. It seemed that no one could stop the Lion of the Punjab, in what would later be called the War of Indian Liberation.

The news threw the British government into disarray. Ricardo blamed the catastrophe on Michael, and vowed that India would be re-conquered, but was in no more position to send help than his young nemesis. The British chose to negotiate, offering to dismantle their control of India in return for being allowed to continue their already extensive trade operations. Michael pressed Singh in a heartfelt letter, asking him not to wreak slaughter when a peaceful solution presented itself. Perhaps taking pity on his youth, Singh accepted his offer and allowed the British to withdraw, turning his attentions to more immediate concerns.

The loss of India was a major blow, condemning the British Empire to the status of a might-have-been, one of history's unexplored possibilities. Michael came out of it as well as could be expected, shaming Parliament into spending the still-formidable trade revenues on philanthropic works. Ricardo, by comparison, decided to pursue his own destiny. He resurrected the myth of King Eowyn, who had supposedly driven Julius Caesar from the shores of Britannia in 55 BC. His territories were renamed the Holy Empire of Britannia, its founding backdated to that very event. As such, the year 1813 AD became 1868 ATB, and Ricardo became Emperor Ricardo I, Ninetieth Emperor of Britannia. The Knights of the Round Table, a knightly brotherhood maintained by his family, was made the Empire's foremost order of chivalry, in imitation of the Order of the Garter. By 1878 ATB, Britannia extended from ocean to ocean, from Alaska to Guatemala, spread by a policy of carrot and stick. Those who surrendered were embraced to the fold, regardless of colour or creed, a forerunner of the Honourary Britannian system. Those who resisted were totally and utterly destroyed. Britannia had built itself a destiny in the new world, creating an Empire that was remarkably enlightened by the standards of the time. It had gained power and wealth beyond imagination, yet it still it longed for that cold, wet little island.

But Michael's successors still reigned there. This fact was a thorn in the lion's paw, a perpetual reminder of how the Empire was born, a failure that it could not put right. It _hurt._

But there was something about the story that got him every time. The big point of the story, the one everyone kept pointing out, was how Britannia and Britain had gone in different directions. Britannia had chosen absolute monarchy, while Britain had embraced constitutional monarchy, and only by doing likewise had any of Europe's other monarchies survived.

The Emperor of Britannia was responsible for everything, yet could not be held responsible, except by assassination. The King of Great Britain could _theoretically _be held responsible, but was not responsible for anything because he did not, in fact, actually _do_ anything. The monarchs who had been unable to adapt to this new reality ended up abdicating their thrones. Those who did adapt kept their thrones, but abdicated responsibility.

There was no King of the EU, no answer to his father. There were no leaders because no one wanted to lead. No one wanted the responsibility, because no one wanted to pay the price of failure. They hid behind committees, spreading out the responsibility as much as possible, ensuring that no one had any real power. Even the Royal houses of Europe had done this, reducing themselves to the status of national symbols, unable and unwilling to rule. Such was their fear of the people, and of the media. Such was their fear of failure, and of punishment, of _accountability._

There were no knights in the EU either. Titles still existed in many member states, but brought few of the privileges they might bring in Britannia. Europe had given birth to chivalry, at least the variety that Britannia claimed to cherish, but in modern times scorned it. Europeans did not listen to stories of noble knights and damsels in distress. They listened to unsentimental historians, who tore chivalry to pieces with blades of ink. They mocked it, spat upon it, named it falsehood. It meant, they said, whatever one wanted it to mean. It went further than that. In the EU, the very idea of serving another person had become abhorrent. Few if any employed servants. They could not imagine themselves doing another person's laundry, cooking their meals, cleaning their toilets. As such, they could not imagine why _anyone_ would want to do it, except by coercion or for large amounts of money. Royalty only got away with it because it was part of the expected image, part of the role they played. The idea of it being an _honour_ to serve was to many Europeans laughable or horrific.

"_Little wonder they cannot get on with Britannia,_" Lelouch thought. "_They cannot make sense of one-another._"

Lelouch could not blame them for thinking that way. He had seen where Britannian concepts of honour led. But at the same time, he could not shake the feeling that something had been lost as a result. If the children did not hear stories of knights and princesses, what stories did they hear? Did they hear _any_ stories at all? Or had someone decided that stories were a waste of time?

A knock at the door drew him from his thoughts.

"Who is it?" he called, slipping on his mask.

"It's me," called Rolo's voice from behind the door. "You wanted to see me?" Zero picked up the remote from the table and unlocked the door. Rolo stepped inside, the door sliding shut behind him.

"Sit down," he said, and Rolo obeyed. "There was something I wanted to ask you about."

"What would that be, brother?"

"You did some work in the EU already, am I right?"

"Yes brother," Rolo answered cautiously.

"Perhaps you've heard of a certain Colonel Michel Galland," Zero went on. "A strange case. Shot with his adjutant's sidearm while inside a locked room." He looked straight at Rolo. "Would you know anything about it?"

"Of course brother," Rolo smiled a smile of disarming innocence. "I did it."

"So I suspected." Zero tried his best, but he could not help but be unsettled by Rolo's attitude. "Diethard's reports refer to quite a large number of assassinations, specifically of high-ranking officers in EUROFORCE and the state armies, many of them under very strange circumstances. Were they all your doing?"

"Some of them," Rolo admitted. "But not all."

"Are there others like you?" Zero knew he was taking a significant risk. He was fairly sure that he had won Rolo over, but if the boy so chose, he could freeze him with his Geass and cut his throat before anyone outside could possibly intervene.

Not that they would know. The stateroom was customized for diplomatic usage, meaning that there were no security cameras and the walls were soundproofed. He had already checked the room for bugs, so no one was listening.

Rolo's Geass allowed him to effectively freeze a human target's brain, causing the victim to think that time had stopped, or that Rolo could move with superhuman speed. It did not effect technology, but neither could technology guard against it. It made Rolo an unstoppable assassin, against whom there was little realistic defence. The only weakness of his power was that it stopped his heart, limiting its usage to short bursts that froze targets for no more than a few seconds. Extensive OSI training helped him get the most out of it.

The result of Rolo's work was a large hole in the middle of the EU's chain of command. The old fossils at the top were too well guarded, and the younger officers at the bottom were not worthy of attention. When combined with combat losses and the need to massively expand the state armies, this meant that younger and younger men were getting promoted.

But Zero was sure Rolo could not have done it all by himself.

"Brother," Rolo looked uncertain.

"Are there, Rolo?" Zero kept his tone gentle, but insistent, slipping off his mask to look him straight in the eyes.

"Brother…Lelouch…"

"Rolo, _please_."

"Yes…yes there are." Rolo looked unsettled. "But don't tell anyone else, okay."

"It's all right Rolo," Lelouch gave him a smile. "But I need to know more about them, and where they're coming from. It's _important._"

"I…I don't know where it is," Rolo replied, after a brief pause. "It's an underground city. They like to stay hidden."

"The Geass Directorate?"

"That's…one name for them."

"Is VV there?" That had been a surprising revelation. He had not known that there was another immortal around until CC told him, not long after she had restored his memories.

"Sometimes," Rolo replied. "But not always. I don't know anything about him, except that he comes with the Emperor sometimes."

"How many of them are there?" Lelouch went on, intrigued. "In the city, I mean."

"I'm not sure, I haven't been there in a while. Hundreds, maybe thousands."

Lelouch felt a surge of irritation. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them. Any proportion of them might have a Geass. Of course Rolo wouldn't know any more than that. He would be working out in the world, so the risks were too great.

He regarded Rolo, the boy who claimed to be his brother, the boy who elicited such contradictory feelings from him. Part of him was disgusted at the very sight of Rolo. He was a cuckoo, an infiltrator not merely of the Black Knights, but his family.

He had just turned up one day during the rebellion, just after they had liberated Tokyo. Lelouch had first seen him sitting outside his new office, as though he had an appointment. If anyone asked, he said that he was Rolo Lamperouge, and that he had come looking for his big brother Lelouch.

He had felt overjoyed to see his beloved younger brother, who had come to join his cause. He had hustled Rolo into the privacy of his office, taken off his mask, and they had embraced. The others had accepted him fairly quickly, or at least Laksharta had, since he had been so thoughtful as to bring a gift.

It was called _Vincent_. It was coloured red and gold. It was the prototype for Britannia's new class of knightmare, essentially a mass-production version of the _Lancelot_. Laksharta had been very pleased to get her hands on it, and so had he. Piloting it, Rolo had been an unstoppable force on the battlefield. It was said that he moved like lightning, so fast as to be invisible. It had not occurred to him to wonder about this, for he had no memory of there being any Geass other than his own, and CC was not around to correct him.

Then the rebellion ended in victory, and he got his memories back. He remembered that he was Lelouch vi Britannia, and Lelouch Lamperouge. He remembered that he had a sister called Nunnally.

But nothing about a brother called Rolo. Those memories of a brother were fake, no doubt implanted by the Emperor to replace those of Nunnally, the false memories of a false life, as he himself had said.

At first, it had been all he could do not to walk up to Rolo and shoot him. The boy had taken advantage of him when he was most vulnerable, insinuated himself into his life at the most intimate levels. _He had tried to take Nunnally's place. _

He never even mentioned her until his visit to Ashford Academy, where he had sent Rolo to get him out of the way. When he had dreamed of his sister, and not known of whom he was dreaming, Rolo had claimed not to know of her.

Then again, so had Kallen. She too had claimed not to know who Nunnally was.

That had rattled him. He had thought that _she _at least could be trusted. Of all his followers, Kallen was the only one he even came close to trusting, the one he most valued. And yet she had not even attempted to remind him of Nunnally. When he had asked her, that one time on the train to Keihanshin, she had claimed not to know. The Emperor had wiped her memory also, but as far as he could tell only the encounter on Kaminejima had been wiped. He knew of no reason why she would not know Nunnally.

_She had chosen not to tell him. _

He could not completely hate Rolo though. To look at him, to see a boy without a family, without a past, whose life had been nothing but a series of missions, he could not help but feel sorry for him. It was that pity as much as anything else that had kept him from simply tossing Rolo aside like an old rag.

_Damn it all! _He even _looked_ like Nunnally. With those eyes, that hair, that face. Little wonder he had felt so protective. No wonder he had felt the same feelings for Rolo as he had for his sister. It seemed too much to be a coincidence.

"_Could he be our brother?_" The possibility could not be ignored, considering his father's proclivities.

His thoughts were disturbed by the door chime.

"Who is it?"

"It's Lelouch, your Excellency," said Sayoko-Lelouch from the corridor. "There's a private message for you."

"I'll be right out." He stood up, slipped on his mask, and headed out, Rolo trailing after him.

_**

* * *

**_

_**Zenda Castle, Ruritania, EU, June 30th 2018 ATB**_

"It's good to see you again, Lieutenant Colonel Morisato," Magnus Constantian smiled slightly as he returned his guest's salute.

"And you also sir."

"I trust the Brigade is in good order?"

"In good order sir, and ready for action." It was the reply Morisato would have given him regardless, but Magnus knew that it was the truth. "The men send their regards."

"I see. Please send mine in return." Magnus turned to look out over the town, Morisato moving to the parapet next to him. Up there, there was no one to overhear.

"I am glad to hear that all went well for you," he said, not sure what words to use. "You were always the better candidate to command the Brigade."

And he was. Whereas he was in his twenty-fourth year, Morisato was thirty-two. They were about even in terms of combat experience, but Morisato had the advantage of seniority. It was simply easier to take a thirty-two-year-old seriously than a twenty-four-year-old.

"I have no regrets about serving under you," Morisato replied sincerely. "We could not have fought so well without you. And you led us well last year."

"I failed," Magnus felt a twinge as he remembered their last campaign, when they had come so close to victory, only for it to be snatched away. "The men risked everything on the basis of my plan, and I came so close to losing them all."

"The men know what happened sir," Morisato insisted. "We would have succeeded if it wasn't for Freron. You must not blame yourself."

Perhaps they might have done. He had noticed the possibility, the oversight that Cornelia would not have made, had she been there. He had persuaded his superiors that taking Marsah Matruh would disrupt the Britannian deployment, allowing the EU and Egyptian forces to advance along the coast, thus cutting off the Britannian 6th Army Group.

The JL Brigade had completed all but one of its objectives. They had taken the town, actually destroying two Britannian Divisions in the process. The final objective, that of holding the town until they could be reinforced, proved unmanageable since the supplies they needed failed to arrive. Retreat was their only option.

Magnus Constantian had blamed himself for the failure, though he had saved the Brigade. Ichijo Morisato, then a Major, had not bought it, and neither had the Brigade. His suspicions were further aroused after some of his men decided to tell the men of the Logistics Corps what they thought of them. The result was a brawl which _he_ had to break up, with the LC men protesting that the supplies had been ready to go, but that their superior, a certain General Freron, had repeatedly refused permission to depart.

That was not to say that Freron got away with it. He pleaded at his Courts-Martial that the risk to his pilots was too great, but witness testimonies from both EUROFORCE _and_ Egyptian personnel agreed that the skies were clear, and his own subordinates testified their willingness to fly the mission. Despite widespread suspicions in the EU forces, it could not be proved that Freron had withheld the supplies deliberately, so he was found guilty merely of gross incompetence.

To add salt to the wound the new French provisional government, which had appeared after the capitulation to Britannia, had decided that Freron's punishment was too harsh and overturned his sentence. Since the provisional government was packed with nationalists, anti-EU types, and pro-Britannia stooges, it was no great surprise.

"Tell me, Lieutenant Colonel," Magnus changed the subject. "What is the mood among the troops, in general I mean?"

"Do you want me to be honest or tactful sir?"

"Honest."

"They're against the treaty sir," Morisato replied without hesitation. "Not just the Japanese Legion and the Bolivar Corps, but all the Combined Forces. They're not beaten, and they're not ready to let Britannia walk away with a victory."

"So I thought," Magnus sighed. He _still_ did not know what to do.

"Sir," Morisato steeled himself. "Forgive me, but I know that you are also opposed to the treaty." Magnus looked up at him in surprise. Ingrained deference to authority and a sense of urgency warred within Morisato. He did not back down.

"If the Combined Forces seek to continue the war, the JL Brigade will join with them," he went on. "For us, there can be no course of action but to fight Britannia. It would be our preference, Sir, to fight under your leadership."

"I am glad of it, Lieutenant Colonel Morisato," Magnus eventually replied. "But…I am uncertain."

"Sir?"

Magnus steeled himself. He did not understand all these feelings. They were not intense, for no feeling of his was intense, but rather they lingered at the edge of his thoughts, unsettling and confusing him.

It made him think of _that_, waiting in his pocket to be used. But it was not to be used for another two hours, and upon no account was the dosage to be exceeded.

"I simply do not know what to do, Lieutenant Colonel Morisato." It was strange to admit it to someone, but Morisato was one of a very small number of people whom he respected and trusted. "Shall I choose war, or peace?"

"I know what it is to suffer divided loyalties, Sir." Morisato's eyes were grim. "When Genbu Kururugi killed himself, I was given the order to surrender, to put myself in the power of Britannia." He paused a moment. "I looked everywhere for something to follow, for someone to tell me what to do."

"And you chose to escape?"

"Some would say I abandoned my country," Morisato's tone was bitter. "But my country no longer really existed, not physically. It became something for me to remember, something to believe in, something that was within me, and was my own. No one can take it from me."

"Is that why you sided with the EU?"

"For the most part." Morisato paused. "If you will permit me to advise you, Sir, there is a solution to your problem. When all else is lost, you must ask yourself who you are and what you believe. Only then will you find an answer."

Magnus understood his meaning. He also knew what the answer was.

"I believe in nothing," he replied, "and there isn't enough of me to know who I am."

* * *

Below them, a dark shape dropped from its perch. It fell with a preternatural ease, as though it merely condescended to respect the laws of gravity. It entered the moat with a splash barely audible to anyone on the battlements above.

Within minutes it was out of the water, racing across the whispering grass to the distant trees. There it could not be seen. It was crucial that it not be seen, for only by being seen could it be detected. No device could mark its passage, nor gain sight of it.

It halted in the shadow of a great tree. It glanced this way and that, taking everything in. No hunter could have ambushed it, no predator could threaten it.

Except one. The one that it noted in the shadow of a nearby tree, standing there in a fashion that, if it were human, would be dubbed _nonchalant._ This one had seen its coming, and it knew that this one was waiting for it. It was like itself, and it knew itself.

It was called Janus. It knew who the other was.

"Well, Janus, will he do it?"

"He remains undecided, Thanatos."

"As I thought he would." To Janus, Thanatos was just a dark shape, as though moulded from shadows. It was testament to his power, to what he was, that even Janus could not detect him except by plain sight.

They were _Furiae_. Only the doomed saw them.

"I know you feel a certain…_loyalty_ to this man," Thanatos went on, seeing straight through him.

"It cannot be otherwise," Janus replied, somewhat defensively. "Were it not for him, I would not be as I am."

"You would be a piece of meat," Thanatos sneered, "existing for no purpose but to soothe the tender consciences of those without the moral courage to put you out of misery."

"I believe that he understands, Thanatos," Janus insisted. "He is uncertain, because he has no particular convictions. He believes in nothing. There is little for him beyond fighting."

"Yes…" Thanatos drew out the word, as if he savoured the sound of it. "He understands us, as we understand him. It will only take a little to make him understand himself."

"What do you mean to do?"

"We will observe him for now. We will go to Strelsau and observe the evening's entertainment. It will be an opportunity to examine Zero also." Janus knew that Thanatos could not see his face, but the other nonetheless saw what he was thinking.

"It may be difficult for you," he said, condescendingly. "To watch them at their leisure, joyful and carefree, to see them talk and laugh and dance. It may hurt you to remember."

"What you gave up willingly," Janus said coldly "was stolen from me, as was my family and my country."

"And yet," Thanatos might have cocked his head, "we are the same. We cannot be other than what we are now." Janus did not reply.

"Come," Thanatos turned into the shadows. "We go." Without hesitation, Janus followed him.

_**

* * *

**__**Britannian front-line Military base, Arras, France, June 29th 2018 ATB**_

"And this is the _Lancelot_, our pride and joy!"

Suzaku allowed himself to smile as he watched an overexcited Lloyd and an embarrassed Cecile show Prince Faramond around the facility. He had been surprised, however pleasantly, when the Prince asked to see it. His visit must have had some effect after all. He had even left off his cloak, wearing a white military-style jacket and pants with high boots and a red sash.

"This is…an Eighth generation knightmare?" queried Faramond.

"It is it is it is!" Lloyd was practically dancing. "Designation Z-01/D, _Lancelot Conquista. _We've upgraded everything, added extra Blaze Luminousand the Hadron Blaster for a little extra firepower. What's more, we added something to deal with Laksharta's irritating little toys!"

"Lloyd!" Cecile hissed. Suzaku sighed inwardly.

"You refer to the Gefjun Disturber?" There was a pause, the words hanging in the air. All eyes turned to Faramond, who was starting to look bashful. "Was that correct?"

"Y…yes," blithered a surprised Lloyd. "You…you actually understood what I was saying?"

"Of course," Faramond's face reddened slightly. "Un…I mean his Imperial Highness desired that I be aware of all the resources at his disposal. He spoke very highly of ASEEC, or should I say Camelot?"

"Your Highness is most kind," Cecile beamed. Suzaku noted that while she was more deferential than Lloyd, she was treating Faramond somewhat like a child. He wasn't sure which approach was better or worse.

"Excuse me one moment," Lloyd cut in. "Were…" he started sniggering, "were you about to call him Uncle Schneizel?"

"Erm…" Faramond's poise evapourated.

"Lloyd!" protested a mortified Cecile. "Stop bullying him!"

"Oh go on!" Lloyd pleaded, grinning from ear to ear. "Call him Uncle Schneizel! We don't mind!"

"Don't worry, your Highness!" came a cheery voice. "He called the Emperor _little Charlie_ last week! This is normal behaviour!" Suzaku looked up to see Gino Weinberg and Anya Earlstreim approach. Anya was carrying Arthur in her arms. The pair stopped and bowed to Faramond.

"Lord Weinberg, Lady Earlstreim," Faramond acknowledged their respect with a slight bow. "I understand that Camelot had a hand in the creation of your knightmares also?"

"You could say that!" Gino replied cheerfully. "My _Tristan_ and Anya's _Mordred_ owe just about everything to _Lancelot_ here!" he gestured at the white knightmare. "Even though Britannic has the patent. You could say he's their big brother!"

"The technology is…" Suzaku froze in horror as Arthur leapt from Anya's arms to land on Faramond's shoulder. "A…Arthur no! Behave yourself!" Faramond flinched as the cat clambered around his shoulder, standing with his back arched. Suzaku wondered if he should try to grab the cat, but uncertainty froze him in place. Both Lloyd and Gino looked ready to burst out laughing. Cecile looked ready to faint.

Arthur mewed, then licked Faramond's cheek. To Suzaku's surprise Faramond actually smiled an embarrassed little smile, a little laugh escaping from his lips. Gino and Lloyd collapsed into guffawing fits. Anya took a picture.

Above them, in the observation lounge, someone was observing them.

"His Highness seems much better," Kanon Maldini commented mildly. "Your plan seems to be working, your Highness."

"It's good to see him out and about," Schneizel agreed, smiling. "But I owe it all to Sir Suzaku and to Nina."

"Your Highness," Nina Einstein's face reddened at the compliment. "We…all we did was talk."

"All the same, I haven't seem him so content in a long time. Now I have even more reason to be grateful, after all your services."

"It…it is an honour to serve you, your Imperial Highness." Nina's eyes were cast in shadow. "If it were not for you…I wouldn't have been able to do all things I've done. I'd still just be a student."

"Don't put yourself down Nina," Schneizel soothed. "You've proven yourself invaluable already with your work on the reactor. I have every confidence that FLEIJA will be a success."

She was indeed valuable, Schneizel thought. No, she was _beyond_ valuable. She was little more than a child, yet she already had a significant theoretical and practical understanding of nuclear physics. He remembered his surprise when Lloyd had first told him of her, of how he had seen the Uranium isotope on her computer screen, of how they had discussed the difficulties of acquiring sufficient fissile material to create an atomic fission effect. He would never have believed that she could have figured it out on her own. But she had.

Atomic fission was, in principle at least, laughably simple. Fissile uranium was so rare in nature that few knew of what it was capable of. But it had been theorized for some time that if one brought enough fissile material together in one place, it could be a source of energy. That had been the primary goal of the research, to create a compact power source as an alternative to sakuradite-based batteries. Britannia's energy was generally solar, hydroelectric and geothermal in origin, being essentially unlimited but also geographically constrained. An atomic reactor could be constructed anywhere, and could be made to function so long as one had a supply of uranium or some other suitable fuel. It might even be small enough to power a knightmare.

That, at least, was the theory.

He knew he had been right to bring Nina into his confidence, to put her in charge of the _In Vogue _research bureau. She had revitalized the project, moving it along with a fresh perspective. The fruit of it was currently in operation at his facility near Dallas. It was only a small reactor, with an output of only 50 megawatts, but it was proof that the technology could be made to work. Larger versions were already under construction at his other facilities, complete with the centrifuges and other devices needed to synthesise the uranium.

And before that, she had constructed an atomic fission device on her own.

He had made a point of scolding Lloyd for providing her with the fissile uranium necessary for its construction. It was merely fortune's dictate that Nina should be a genius and not an engineer, the bomb's shoddy construction rendering it useless.

Not many things got an emotional reaction from him, but this was one of them. He felt a cold chill whenever he thought about it, the dark side of atomic fission, the terrible possibility inherent in an otherwise wondrous science. The theory that if the uranium was brought together, thus resulting in atomic fission, then exposed to a large amount of energy all at once, then a much greater number of atoms would split all at once, resulting in a chain reaction that would split even more atoms, releasing even more energy.

And only a few months ago, they had done it themselves.

No one outside of _In Vogue_ knew about it, the test having been conducted in a barren desert. But Schneizel would never forget it. The sight and sound of it were forever etched on his memory, in a way that feelings no longer could. It had confirmed his worst fears.

He did not allow his smile to flicker as he looked down at her. She would soon have burdens enough to bear without him troubling her with his conscience. Such as it was.

"There is another matter, your Highness," Kanon cut in. "We have received word from Pendragon. The Bill for the Regulation of Private Resources is into its second reading and is expected to go before the House of Lords within the next few days."

"Shouldn't that be _let's all steal Schneizel's sakuradite hoard_?" Schneizel asked, amusement in his tone.

"I daresay, your Highness." If Kanon found it funny, or was unsettled by his master's flippancy, then he did not show it.

"Your Highness!" Nina was shocked. "They…they want your sakuradite stockpile!"

"Indeed they do, Nina," Schneizel sounded both amused and world-weary. "The grasshopper's cupboard is bare, so he seeks to steal from the ant. They must've finally realised how low the sakuradite reserves are."

"But…that's your Highness' property!" Nina shrieked. "They can't just take it! They _can't_! You're the _Chancellor_! You're a _Prince_!" She faltered suddenly, and then wilted with embarrassment.

"You are right, Nina, they can't force me to hand it over." Schneizel paused, choosing his words. "But if I were to refuse, I would be putting my own profit over the good of the Empire. The stock market is already unstable, and a scandal of that magnitude could cause a severe crash."

It was something he had worked _very_ hard to avoid over the past few months. If the sakuradite were to run out, it would render Britannia unable to construct high-temperature superconductors. Whole industries, notably the Arms industry, would be effectively destroyed. Energy Fillers, on which all transport except the monorails and railways relied, would be in critically short supply. All that would be enough to destroy Britannia's economy by itself. But the possibility of such a thing happening might be enough to cause panic on the stock exchange, the resulting crash making matters all the worse.

He had not needed to lie to the Britannian people. The Senate and the Corporations had done it for him, falsely claiming that Britannia had decades-worth of sakuradite in storage. Ironically enough it would have been true, were it not for their excess.

"Your Highness," Kanon interjected diplomatically. "Your sakuradite stockpile is vital to Project Damocles."

"Of course," Schneizel agreed. "But the bigger problem is that they will learn nothing. If they simply take the sakuradite, they may gain another year, maybe two, and re-conquering Japan will be their only option. This treaty is important, for if we can end the war now and chalk it up as a victory, then I will have the political capital I need to…_persuade_ the Senate to adopt my austerity measures, which will extend the national reserves to twelve years. That will be time enough to do what I need to do."

"Your Highness…" Nina was awestruck.

"Britannia's worst enemies are the enemies within," Schneizel went on. "Not merely within the country, but within its very soul. I know that Kanon understands," he turned to face Nina. "I must know that _you_ understand, Nina. The rest of my followers understand what I am doing, and why it must be done. Are you one of them?"

"Yes," there was fervour in her tone. "Yes…your Highness."

_**

* * *

**__**Strelsau, Capital of Ruritania, EU, June 30th 2018 ATB**_

The gallery offered a panoramic view of Strelsau as the _Sachsen_ began its final approach. Zero could see the inner city, with its magnificent cathedral and the Royal palace, as the zeppelin moved over it to Strelsau International, which was located on the edge. The architecture, he had been told, dated to the 17th and 18th centuries and were some of the best-preserved examples in Europe.

With any luck, he would have time to enjoy them. But he thought it unlikely.

In the gallery with him were his entourage, dressed for the arrival. Tohdoh and his fellow officers wore army dress uniforms, dark green in the high-collar style with an abundance of gold braid and high boots. Ougi, Diethard, Tamaki, Sugiyama, and Sayoko-Lelouch wore the dress uniform of the Black Knights, consisting of high boots, white pants, and black jackets with silver braid. Rolo, Hinata, Futaba, and Minase also wore dress uniform, but those of enlisted members rather than officers. Yasuki Konoe and his staff were also present, clad in formal suits with sashes. CC wore her now-characteristic black dress, while Laksharta had surprised all by turning up in an Indian Army officer's uniform, the honourary rank of Colonel being her reward for her part in the downfall of the Eunuchs. Kaguya wore one of her usual outfits, a kimono variation in pink and purple. Kallen was currently dressed in the same fashion as the eight troopers from Commando A Company Zero had brought along for security; formal uniforms but with faces covered up to the eyes. This ensured that the other guests at the soiree would see only the pretty, demure Kallen Stadtfeld. Such was the plan.

"All right, we're almost there," Zero addressed his entourage. "I trust you are all…"

"Wow! Tamaki exclaimed. "Check out that crowd!"

As the _Sachsen _came into position over Strelsau International, they could see. Though the landing zone was closed off, all the land outside of it appeared to have been flooded in some fashion. As the _Sachsen_ descended, Zero made out the flood to be a throng of people.

"Well," Zero said, steeling himself. "Quite a turnout. Shall we?"

They gathered at the main hatch as the _Sachsen_ settled on the tarmac. Zero swallowed hard as the heavy door was opened.

The sound hit him like an ocean wave, cheers rising to a roar. Flags and banners hung from the windows of the terminal building, some were the Japanese _Hinomaru_, others that of the Black Knights, and yet more besides.

Zero forced himself to step through the hatchway, the others following on behind, as the band began a particularly haunting rendition of _Kimigayo. _He scanned his hidden eyes over the crowds, some of them singing along, and felt that thrill again. It was the same thrill he had felt when he led the Black Knights to victory at Narita, when his oratory had won the Japanese to his banner. He knew it, feared it, loved it.

At the bottom of the steps awaited a tall, red-haired man in a white uniform, unmistakeably King Rudolph. With him was a glamorously-dressed blonde woman of about the same age, undoubtedly Queen Flavia. With them were various notables of the sort usually present at such occasions. Zero forced himself to descend the steps, concentrating on the person of the King.

"Your Excellency," the King held out his hand as Zero reached the bottom of the steps. "Welcome to Ruritania."

"Your Majesty," Zero bowed his head as he took the proffered hand. "You honour me with your welcome.

"As you can see," the King gestured to the crowds, whose cheering seemed to have gotten louder. "Your coming has caused quite a stir."

"I trust it has not been too great an inconvenience, your Majesty."

"It is of no consequence."

What followed was the usual round of handshaking, bowing, and greetings, as the King led Zero along the line of waiting dignitaries. Only one caught Zero's eye.

"And this is…"

"Ambassador Masakado Daidouji," Zero had recognized him immediately. "I was particularly hoping to meet you."

"I am honoured, your Excellency, to meet our nation's liberator" Daidouji bowed low.

"You will be with us tonight, for the Soiree?"

"Yes, your Excellency."

"I hear your daughter has consented to entertain us," Zero went on, seeking to gauge his reaction.

"She had, your Excellency." His face and manner were completely unreadable.

"That was a boon indeed," the King added. "Her singing voice is something to be admired."

"My company and I were most pleased to hear of it," Zero replied, as the King led him towards the waiting cars.

**

* * *

****(Many apologies for the long delay, it was due to a combination of other commitments and hearing Tianzi's character song on Youtube. The Soiree will get a chapter pretty much to itself, which is the next one.)**


	10. The Efficacy of Sincerity

**Chapter Ten: The Efficacy of Sincerity**

_Men are so simple and yield so readily to the desires of the moment that he who will trick will always find another who will suffer to be tricked._

_Niccolo Machiavelli _

_**Then**_

_**St Darwin Boulevard, April 14th 2009 ATB**_

"Euphie," Lelouch whined, glancing around in embarrassment. "Euphie, should we be doing this?"

"I want to know what they're doing," Euphemia insisted. "They just keep wandering off together, and I don't know what they get up to."

"I want to see them too!" Nunnally added enthusiastically.

It was all because of Tomoyo Daidouji, Euphemia's companion. Ever since her arrival, she had spent a lot of time Faramond, becoming his constant companion. It was this fact that had piqued Euphemia's curiosity, not out of any apparent resentment, but rather wondering what this would lead to.

Lelouch would have much preferred to leave them alone. Faramond had been improving as a result of her friendship, but Lelouch feared that his nephew would clam up again if people started interfering.

"We shouldn't pry," he protested, his sisters paying no heed. "It's improper!"

"Look!" Euphie hissed. Unable to resist his curiosity, Lelouch peered over the top of the rhododendron bush.

He could see his nephew, sitting on the short grass with Tomoyo. _And they were singing_. Lelouch stared in disbelief as Faramond sang along happily, like any other child his age.

_O te te, tsunaide  
No michi o yukeba  
Minna kawa__ii kotori ni natte  
Uta o utaeba kutsu ga naru  
Hareta mi sora ni kutsu ga naru_Lelouch was surprised. He had never seen his nephew so…_carefree._ It seemed out of character, yet there he was. He only knew a little Japanese, which was embarrassing next to Tomoyo's flawless English, so he did not know what the song was about, except that it seemed to involve turning into birds.

_Hana__ o tsuunde wa  
Otsuu ni tateba  
Minna kawaii usagi ni natte  
Hanete odore ba kutsu ga naru  
Hareta mi sora ni kutsu ga naru_

"I want to see!" Nunnally stretched to see over the bush.

"No Nunnally!" Lelouch hissed, covering her eyes. "You mustn't! It's private!"

"But I want to see!" Nunnally wailed. Their struggling caused the bush behind which they hid to rustle. Tomoyo and Faramond looked up in surprise as Lelouch and Nunnally fell out, landing in a heap before them.

"Uncle Lelouch! Aunt Nunnally!" Faramond's face reddened. "Whatever were you doing in the rhododendron bushes?"

"Nothing!" Lelouch spluttered, his hair tangled with twigs and leaves. "We were…"

"We were just listening to the two of you singing together," Euphemia cut in, hurrying around the bush. "You both looked so carefree!"

"I…" Faramond looked away, seeming to shrink into himself.

"I want Faramond to sing again!" proclaimed Nunnally, as Lelouch tried to pick the twigs out of her hair and clothes.

"Go on!" Euphemia encouraged him. "Sing for us!" But Faramond's face went even redder.

"Oh look, now he's clammed up again!" Lelouch complained. "I told you we should leave them alone."

"It's not fair!" Nunnally wailed. "He plays his flute, but he won't sing!"

"It's hard for him," Lelouch reproved. "We can't force him to do it. It wouldn't be nice."

"But I want to hear Faramond sing!" Nunnally protested.

"Faramond," Euphemia said gently, though trying to be firm. "You have to stop being so shy. You're a Prince of Britannia."

"I…can't help it."

"Well you have to," Lelouch insisted. "You'll have to represent Britannia to the world some day. It won't do for you to be shy."

"I can't help it," Faramond looked ashamed. "I can't be like Papa." Lelouch decided not to bring up the irony in this claim. Odysseus was not exactly the ideal Britannian Prince himself.

"Your Highness," Tomoyo spoke up. "I think…you're _very_ princely." There was a long and rather awkward pause.

"You…really think so?"

"Of course!" Tomoyo smiled. "You are the princeliest of all the princes!"

"Oh," Faramond looked away, flattered. "I…"

"I object!" Euphemia interjected. "Lelouch is very princely too!"

"Very very princely!" Nunnally added.

"I never said his Highness wasn't," Tomoyo insisted graciously. "Prince Lelouch is very princely too."

"He's so princely," Euphemia cooed, "that I'm going to marry him!" There was a pause, as this statement was taken in.

"No you can't!" Nunnally protested, cottoning on. "I'll marry Lelouch!"

"He's going to marry _me_!" Euphemia retorted, taking Lelouch's arm. "Because I'm older!"

"He's going to marry _me_!" Nunnally grabbed her beloved brother's other arm. "Because I'm prettier!"

"Wait! Let go!" Lelouch wailed as his sister and half-sister proceeded to pull him in opposite directions. "I can't marry either of you!"

"Yes you can!" Euphemia insisted, pulling harder. "You'll marry me!"

"No! Big brother's going to marry _me_!" Nunnally pulled harder also. Lelouch felt like he was going to be pulled apart.

"But I'm your big brother!" he wailed, to no avail. None of them noticed Faramond and Tomoyo, as they hurried away together.

"I never knew," Tomoyo commented, as they halted behind a tree, "that they were so fond of him."

"I…I'm sorry, Tomoyo," Faramond lowered his head. "I let you down."

"No you didn't," Tomoyo soothed. "You sang it nicely."

"I was afraid," Faramond admitted. "I was afraid she'd scold you, because I sang for you and not for her."

"Princess Euphemia isn't like that. There's nothing to be scared of."

"I'm not princely though," Faramond sounded sad, and looked it too. "I'm not clever like Uncle Lelouch, and I'm not brave like Aunt Cornelia. I'm not anything really."

"That's not true." Tomoyo gave him a smile. "You're Prince Faramond."

Faramond stared at her for a long time, enraptured by her smile, and her blue eyes, and most of all her words, which touched him in ways he had never known, and could not describe. He felt so _warm_ when he was with her, like he felt with Euphemia, Lelouch, Nunnally, or his father, but much stronger.

"Tomoyo…I…" He could not describe what he felt, but neither could he hold it in. "I…_I love you_!" He flung his arms around her neck and pressed himself against her. Tomoyo paused, momentarily stunned.

"It's all right," she said, slipping her arms around his waist. "It's all right."

She wasn't quite sure what to think of it. Being an ambassador's daughter, and a tad precocious on top of it, she knew that she really ought not to be hugging a Prince.

It was something she would never have dreamed of doing, and yet she was doing just that. She supposed it was all right, since he had started it, but what if someone saw them? It wasn't that she minded hugging him, or spending time with him, or teaching him Japanese. In fact, she had come to think of him as a very dear friend.

Could it be true? Could he, like a fairytale Prince, have fallen in love with her?

Whatever would her parents say?

"Oh!" Faramond broke the hug, backing away. "I'm sorry!"

"It's all right," she gave him a smile and offered her arm like a grown-up lady. "Shall we?" Faramond looked bewildered for a moment, then grinned childishly and slipped his arm through hers.

_**

* * *

**__**Now**_

_**Strelsau, Capital of Ruritania, June 30th 2018 ATB**_

The Royal palace was large and tastefully decorated in Rococo fashion. The ballroom, in which the soiree primarily took place, was particularly lavish. The walls were white, punctuated with baroque columns, the ceiling swarming with painted images. Exuberant decorations in gilt-bronze emblazoned just about everything. It was a remembrance in architecture, a glimpse of a more civilized age.

Zero had lost track of the number of people he had been introduced to by King Rudolph and Queen Flavia, who played the roles of host and hostess with practised ease, steering guests from one cluster to another, always on hand to ensure that no one was left alone unless they appeared to desire it. The identification of introverts was a rare and unsung skill of the good host.

Ougi, Diethard, and Tohdoh were still with him, as was Rolo, whom Kaguya had ditched in favour of her cousin. CC, in dark red, had long since abandoned him. She was now surrounded by a coterie of men, whom she handled with consummate skill. He could not help but notice how at home she seemed, as if she had been in and out of Royal courts all her life. The rest proceeded to mingle, in accordance with his prior instructions.

And there was Kallen. For all his willpower, he could not keep his eyes off her.

Her dress was a pale pink, strapless, flaring to the floor from her narrow waist. The cut was low, but high enough to conceal her ample cleavage. Her lips were painted the same colour, as were her eyelids, the lashes picked carefully with black mascara. A silver choker adorned her throat.

It was not that she was _beautiful_. She was indeed beautiful, but that was not something that should have mattered. She should not have distracted him so.

"I should warn you," the King lowered his voice. "The ambassadors have a great many questions. I fear you must expect a thorough grilling."

"Do not worry yourself, your Majesty," Zero replied cheerfully. "I fully expect it."

Next were Masakado Daidouji and his wife Sonomi, along with their daughter Tomoyo.

"Your Excellency," the ambassador began, bowing his head. "I am pleased to finally be able to meet with you."

"The pleasure is mine, ambassador," Zero inclined his head in return. The introductions took a few moments, with much bowing of heads and shaking of hands. The most exuberant greetings were between Kaguya and Tomoyo. Zero counted himself lucky that Tamaki was elsewhere, lest he attempt something untoward with her

He regarded the ambassador's daughter for a moment. She was much as he remembered her, only older. Her dress was a middle blue, matching her eyes. Her hair, still a glossy black, hung straight and unadorned. She had grown beautiful, or so Zero thought. But it was something else that really drew his attention, something in her manner, an air of calm and tenderness.

"_I know your weakness, Faramond,_" he thought. "_You fell in love with her the moment you set eyes on her. I understand why._"

"Father, mother," Tomoyo turned to face her parents. "May we be excused a moment?"

"By all means," Masakado replied with a smile. Zero in turn nodded to Kaguya, and the pair headed off, doubtless catching up on eight years apart. It was as he had planned.

"There seems little sense in boring them with matters of state," Masakado commented.

"Indeed," Zero answered. "I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you, on behalf of the Japanese people, for your work in their cause."

"For Japan and its people, it was least I could do," Masakado replied sincerely. "Though I fear my achievements cannot compare to your own."

"I have done what I can," Zero insisted. "But if Japan is to remain free I will need your help, and the help of those Japanese who currently reside in Europe."

"I am glad to offer what help I can," Masakado's tone now contained a hint of caution. "But it would help if I could know what your precise intentions are."

"To be perfectly honest, they are to ensure that the EU continues the war. This is, I believe, the only way to ensure Japan's independence."

"Somehow I thought you would say that." Masakado sighed. "I fear your conclusion may be strategically correct, but I wonder whether it is _right_."

"I never took you for a pacifist, ambassador."

"I'm not, as a rule. But you must understand the position this puts me in." The ambassador paused, as though choosing his words. "If I were to advocate continued conflict while peace is being negotiated, then that makes me little more than a lobbyist, seeking to put the interests of the Japanese above those of the EU as a whole."

"I understand of course," Zero kept his tone gracious, belying his frustration. "You took the same line before the war, setting yourself against the Kururugi administration."

"Yes, I did," Masakado did not appear to enjoy the memory. "It was my conclusion that Kururugi's plan for Japan was dangerous in the extreme. I only regret that my efforts were insufficient."

"You must not blame yourself," Zero replied. "The events of the past eight years have shown you to be right. Though it was a good move, all things considered," he turned his attention to Sonomi, who had thus far remained silent, "to have acquired capital in the EU."

"Had I not done so, we would be destitute," she replied primly. She had short hair, with long bangs hanging over her right eye, and a somewhat angular face.

"I have also heard," Zero went on, warming to a well-prepared provocation, "that you refused to cooperate with an industrial militarization initiative. Under the circumstances, I find it most courageous."

"It was difficult, I admit," Sonomi replied guardedly. "As much as I am grateful to the EU for allowing myself, my husband, and my daughter sanctuary, I could not do otherwise."

"I would like to hear your reasons," Zero pressed, "if you don't mind."

"My company makes _toys_, your Excellency." Now she was reacting. Zero could detect the hint of hostility slipping into her tone. "It exists to make children happy and preserve their innocence, not to toss it onto the bonfire. There's been enough of that as it is."

"My wife and I have been most concerned," Masakado cut in, "with the suffering of the civilian population in Europe."

"It is not enough that the children in Europe have lost parents, aunts, uncles, siblings, cousins, and friends," Sonomi went on, fire in her eyes. "Their have seen their homes and schools destroyed. Many French and Spanish cities were bombed and gassed, and I have heard stories of children fighting as partisans there, as well as in Russia and Africa. With all that going on, I could not be a party to the destruction of innocence."

"I am humbled," Zero managed to sound sincere. "But I fear Britannia has not had its fill of fighting. If they are not defeated, they will attack Japan within the year."

"I understand," Sonomi replied, regretfully. "You refer to the sakuradite shortage they've managed to inflict upon themselves. I did not think it was as bad as you imply."

"The information was not easily acquired." In truth, Zero was not entirely sure how Diethard had discovered just how low Britannia's sakuradite stockpiles had run. He had been interested to hear of a recent Bill before the Senate that would effectively allow it to seize private resource stockpiles. This seemed to confirm his suspicions.

"Under the circumstances," Masakado spoke up, "there's someone here I would like you to meet." Zero noticed the approach of another group, this one clustered around a glamorously-dressed woman, maybe in her early thirties, with finely-coiffed black hair.

"Your Excellency," Masakado gestured to the newcomers. "It is my honour to present a particularly esteemed friend of ours."

"Catherine de Braganza," the woman held out a gloved hand.

"I am honoured to meet you," Zero took the proffered hand and bowed his head, "your Imperial Highness."

"You need not call me that," she replied, somewhat ruefully. She spoke English, with an accent that Zero could not place for certain, though he suspected it was Portuguese. The way she carried herself reminded him of Cornelia. "I have never in my life warranted such a title."

Zero could accept her sincerity, but he was not soothed. He could see her followers eyeing him like so many hawks, reading his body language, his words, his tone, seeking some indication of who he was and what he intended. He was grateful for his mask, since they could not see his face or where his eyes were looking.

"Only on account of a historical injustice," Zero kept his tone level. He thought himself good at reading people, but he could not read Catherine de Braganza, a woman who under different circumstances might have been Empress of Brazil. That made her _somewhat_ more interesting.

"For a century," he began, impressing his voice with conviction, "the Empire of Brazil was the protector of South America, a bulwark against the malignancy otherwise known as Britannia. Judging by the events of this century, its loss was greater tragedy than anyone could have known."

"A tragedy," Catherine mused. "I suppose that is as fair a word for it as any. The fate of my family, however, cannot compare with the suffering my people endured."

Zero barely suppressed a shudder. The fate of the House of Braganza stood out among the countless horrors of the year 1945 ATB, when Brazil finally fell to the wrath of Britannia. Murdered and mutilated by the troops assigned to guard them, even as Emperor Theseus arrived to receive their surrender. Horrified, he had the entire battalion shot for failing to produce the culprits, and buried the Imperial remains in a magnificent mausoleum at his own expense. But the stain would not wash away, and Brazil was still Area 6.

"Your Imperial Highness," this time Ougi spoke up. "Please forgive my immoderate words, but the suffering of your people is a cause of suffering to ours also." Catherine's followers turned their eyes upon him, and Zero noticed that others were watching too. It was getting tense, but he had no choice but to trust his subordinate now.

"It is because," Ougi went on, his tone full of sincerity, "of the sacrifices of the Brazilian people, that the Japanese were able to avoid conquest." He bowed as low as he could manage. "It is a debt we have no hope of repaying." There was silence.

"I thank you, for your kind words," Catherine said, holding out her hand to Ougi as she had with Zero. There were mutterings of approval among her entourage. Zero sighed with relief.

"She has a considerable faction behind her," Diethard murmured in his ear, as Catherine proceeded to converse with a very nervous Ougi. "Along with the Imperial Guard Division and the Brazilian Exile Volunteers. We would do well to ingratiate ourselves with her."

That in itself was nothing unusual. The EU was home to any number of exile parties, some of which were actually able to provide military units. The Brazilian units represented the largest of these in numerical terms, followed closely by the Bolivar Corps. This made Catherine de Braganza worth knowing about. In turn, it made the allegiance of Masakado Daidouji all the more important.

* * *

"I was so happy when I heard you would sing tonight!" Kaguya gushed. "I remember your beautiful voice from all those years ago."

"My Lady Kaguya is too kind." Tomoyo Daidouji returned the compliment with a gentle smile.

"_Cousin_," Kaguya admonished happily, "no titles tonight!"

They were related by blood, Kaguya's mother being the younger sister of Tomoyo's father. To look at them even a casual observer would know it, both having long black hair and similarly-shaped faces. What most marked them apart in appearance were their eyes, Kaguya's being green and Tomoyo's blue. It was in their personalities, however, that they were truly distinct. Kaguya Sumeragi was vivacious and extraverted, an exuberant free spirit who contained herself only when absolutely necessary. Tomoyo Daidouji was elegant and reserved, very much in the mould of a _Yamato Nadeshiko_, who on occasion might give in to bouts of excitement.

"I was so sorry to hear about your parents," Tomoyo said, sincere in her regret. "I did not know Kururugi-san could be capable of such a thing."

"Tomoyo-chan, you're so sweet," Kaguya sighed, feeling a touch of melancholy. Her parents too had gotten on Genbu Kururugi's bad side, despite her would-be marriage to his son Suzaku. Kaguya suspected that her parents died for no other reason than bring her and her inheritance under his complete control.

"I trust you have had no problems with his Excellency the Regent?"

"With Zero-sama? Of course not!" Kaguya beamed, the mention of Zero restoring her spirits instantly. "My future husband is the greatest of men!"

"I was so worried, when I heard you were involved with the Black Knights," Tomoyo decided not to press for details on Kaguya's latter statement. "And with the affair in China. I do hope her Imperial Majesty was not too much distressed."

"Not really! She was just relieved not to have to marry Prince Odysseus. He's old enough to be her _father_!" They both giggled. "Oh, but I forgot, you already know Prince Odysseus, don't you?"

"I do," Tomoyo's happy countenance faltered somewhat. "He never struck me as being interested in young girls. He was always very kind."

"I'm sure he is," Kaguya reassured her, deciding that the time was right. "But then, you must know his son Prince Faramond."

Tomoyo's face did not so much as flicker. But Kaguya saw her hand tremble.

"I had the privilege to know his Imperial Highness," she answered, somewhat guardedly.

"Come on, _chere cousin,_" Kaguya pressed, eyes sparkling. "A little bird told me you were a good friend of Prince Faramond when you were young."

"Prince Faramond was…very lonely," Tomoyo's countenance darkened suddenly. "He suffered terribly. All I did was offer my friendship…and he reciprocated."

"I _knew_ it," Kaguya nodded. "Oh, forgive me. I shouldn't press you like this, not since we haven't met in so long."

"It's all right," Tomoyo smiled. "My time in Britannia isn't a memory I regret."

"Of course not" Kaguya smiled back, hiding her thoughts. "_It's like Zero-sama said. She has feelings for him. But is it okay to use her?_"

* * *

Zero had spent the past few minutes in a conversation with a group of EUROFORCE officers. They generally pumped him over the Battle of Narita, as well as his battles during the Black Rebellion. After a while they dispersed, leaving him alone with a certain Frederik Syzmanowski, commander of the _Jan Sobieski_ Brigade.

Just as he had intended.

"I have heard much of the exploits of the _Sobieski_ Brigade," he complimented.

"Thank you, your Excellency," Syzmanowski seemed genuinely flattered. "We've had a good war, if such a thing is possible."

"I heard you were involved in the El-Alamein campaign last year."

"I was," the Lieutenant Colonel darkened at the memory. "Along with Colonel Constantian, though he was only a Lieutenant-Colonel back then too."

"Regarding the Colonel," Zero glanced at the albino, who was several metres away in an apparently friendly conversation with another man whom he did not recognize. "What can you tell me about him?" The question was a risk, but one he had to take.

"The first thing I should tell you is that he's only twenty-four, going on twenty-five."

"Really?" Zero was genuinely surprised. While gaining high rank at a young age was no all that unusual in Britannia, it was part of a policy of rewarding combat performance with promotion, regardless of other concerns. It was also, more often than not, down to patronage. He had not expected such a thing in the EU, despite what Rollo had told him.

"In EUROFORCE we like to cultivate talent," Syzmanowski went on, sounding more than a little proud. "His Academy scores got him on the fast-track list, and we tend to be a little more lenient when it comes to seniority. I'm only thirty-two myself."

"Even so," Zero glanced again at Constantian. "A remarkable achievement."

"Mostly a case of being in the right place at the right time with the right qualifications," Syzmanowski retorted. "He wasn't set to go any higher. He got that last promotion for _other _reasons."

"I see." The risk was paying off handsomely. "Where is he from?"

"Nowhere."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, as far as we know he was born in Constanta, in Romania."

"So he's Romanian?" Zero's curiosity was piqued. "_It really is a made-up name._"

"Not in any meaningful sense," Syzmanowski replied, a hint of disapproval in his tone. "He was born in 1994."

"Oh."

There was not much else Zero could say. He knew as well as anyone what had happened in that year, and what the results had been. He knew of the seeming-cataclysm nowadays called the EU-Soviet War. Seeming, because it was only a shadow of what would begin in 2010.

The causes were simple enough on the surface. A desperate Soviet leadership, saddled with a collapsing economy, had gambled everything on one last roll of the dice, seeking the Soviet Union's survival in the destruction of the EU. Far from bringing salvation, it merely turned Eastern Europe into the Soviet Union's funeral pyre.

Zero could see it in his mind's eye. A squalling infant with white hair plucked from the wreckage, perhaps from the cold arms of an unidentifiable cadaver. There would be no way of finding out his name, or if he had any family, for the records would have burned along with the city, which changed hands four times in the course of the war. The only option would be to offload the child at one of the Juvenile Care Facilities, set up to cope with the sudden and massive influx of war orphans. Despite the best efforts of overworked and under-supported staff, such places did not make for stable or happy childhoods.

He felt a twinge of pity.

"So what is his nationality?" he decided to push the conversation along.

"None," Syzmanowski's disapproval was more overt. "He's never claimed a nationality. Officially he's an EU citizen."

"_And you disapprove of that,_" Zero thought. The rule was that anyone with EU citizenship had the same rights and responsibilities as a citizen of the member state in which he or she resided. Initially there had been all manner of opt-outs and restrictions imposed by the national governments, but over time they evaporated, leaving little aside from membership in the State armies and police forces.

"You disapprove?"

"A man should have a country," Syzmanowski almost growled. "I won't say anything against Colonel Constantian, other than that I don't understand him. I don't know what motivates him. If you want more details, you'll have to ask Doctor Gunner," he gestured at the man Constantian was talking to. "Apparently they were childhood friends."

"_Keep talking,_" Zero smirked under his mask. "_Keep on spilling. You want to tell me, don't you?_"

"Speaking of country," he glanced surreptitiously around the room, "I have heard that your government is interested in establishing relations. That was why you made such an effort to talk to me, wasn't it?"

There were many good reasons to make contact during parties. It wasn't just alcohol loosening the tongue somewhat, but the low rumble of conversation allowed for talking without fear of being overheard. Not a bad move by the Polish government either, having Syzmanowski make contact instead of their ambassador. It was counterintuitive, and therefore less likely to draw suspicion.

"My government fears for its survival," Syzmanowski confided after a brief pause. "I think it understandable, with several million Britannian troops in such close proximity. Some say your new alliance is Poland's only hope."

"You do not think the Britannians will withdraw when the deal is signed?"

"My government doesn't think there will be a deal. Most of Europe is still spoiling for a fight, it's just a question of whether we can win. Some in my government feel that joining with your United-States-Alliance is our best chance."

"Don't worry about it," Zero soothed, patting his shoulder in a friendly manner. "All you have to do," his eyepiece slid open, "_is obey the orders I give you_." Syzmanowski went still for a moment, his eyes blank. The eyepiece slid shut. The Pole blinked as the Geass wore off, then looked at Zero expectantly.

"…is ask, and I will do my best to be of help." Zero's timing was perfect.

"Thank you, your Excellency," Syzmanowski's eyes flashed with excitement. "Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?"

"Oh, nothing for the moment," Zero lowered his voice so as not to be overheard. "I order you to send me a copy of the EU's counterattack plan and full details of its current capabilities. I also order you not to get caught."

"Understood," Syzmanowksi replied robotically, his eyes glazing as the orders were imprinted on his subconscious mind. Zero smirked under his mask. It had been, relatively speaking, quite easy.

* * *

"It's been a long time since we've talked like this." Lukas Gunner gave his old friend a smile.

"I was just surprised to see you on your feet," Magnus Constantian replied as they headed for the parapet. The spacious veranda was a good place to talk in private.

"It's this new gadget they've put in my spine," Lukas replied. "A new derivative technology, or that's what they told us."

"I was hoping it would be thanks to the new stem-cell therapy." Magnus sounded a little disappointed. "I was hoping that your regaining your legs would mark its debut."

"Sadly not, old friend," Lukas chuckled. "I may not be dancing tonight, but I won't need this prosthetic forever." Magnus had noted the stiffness in his friend's gait, and suspected that the prosthetic vertebrae and artificial nerve cords were still not quite up to the job. He also suspected he knew what the technology was a derivative of, though this was little compared to the original.

"I never thought I'd see you walk again," Magnus admitted, once again feeling emotions he did not quite understand. "Not after what they did."

"I've been far too busy to dwell on it," Lukas mused. "As have you from what I've heard. Though I have to say I never expected to see you here."

"It was Dantes' doing," Magnus retorted, a little too quickly. "He does this to embarrass me, I'm certain of it."

"Maybe he just wants to see you dance," Lukas turned to face him. "What a coincidence that Akiko agreed to come with me."

"Don't you try it, Lukas," Magnus' eyes flashed with irritation. He had been avoiding the EUROMED delegation ever since he found out that Akiko Kobayashi was coming with them. She had every right to, being Lukas' assistant and a Doctor in her own right, but that did not make him any less leery of encountering her. He did not like what she made him feel.

"Would it kill you to dance with her?" Lukas wheedled. "She's wanted to see you for so long."

"What if _I_ don't want to see _her_?"

"Magnus, I wish you wouldn't be like this," Lukas sighed a world-weary sigh. "You'll charge into battle without so much as a backward glance, but the idea of talking to a young woman terrifies you."

"You know how I am," Magnus retorted. "I don't need…complications." His great strength had always been his ability to make decisions quickly and rationally, unencumbered by preference or prejudice, free from fear and self-doubt. For him, emotions only got in the way.

"It will be a sad day," Lukas commented, "when human feeling is thought to be a _complication_."

"I am what I am, Lukas. I thought you understood that."

"I do. And I thought you understood me." There was sadness in Lukas' eyes. "I understand what you are, and I know better than most how it came about. To know this, and to know that I can do nothing, that is no easy thing for me to bear."

"It is not your responsibility."

"I am a Doctor. Where there is hurt, I must try to heal it. Yet yours is a hurt I cannot heal, lest it cause a greater hurt. It is the Physician's Dilemma, and the curse of _Quiescence._"

"The curse is mine to bear, not yours. And I do not think it a curse."

"Only because you know no other experience." Lukas managed a rueful chuckle. "I suppose that's why you chose the life of a soldier. You can decide everything on the basis of law, custom, or military necessity." He eyed Magnus. "Until now, that is."

"I don't know what to do, Lukas," Magnus admitted. "Do I support the peace deal, or take arms against it?"

"Most people would decide on the basis of their feelings," Lukas explained. "They would decide what mattered to them most of all, and act on that. Their hearts become their guides. What does your heart tell you?"

"I don't know," Magnus sighed. "I don't really have one."

"Don't be so sure," Lukas shot him a wry smile that reminded Magnus of their shared childhood. "You might just find it."

* * *

"I cannot help but recall, your Excellency," said Ladislaus Graf Széczen, the Austro-Hungarian ambassador, "that you opposed the takeover attempt by Sawasaki on the basis that he was a stooge of the Chinese."

"That is correct, ambassador," Zero managed to keep his tone gracious. He had spent the best part of an hour being grilled by the ambassadors, and they weren't letting up.

"And yet, following the recent affair in China, your forces have received a steady flow of arms from China, along with the protection of a Glacier Fortress, and significant economic assistance."

"That is also true. The _Tiashan_ is proving quite an effective deterrent. But I fear I do not understand your meaning."

"Your Excellency, it is put about that your regime is little different to what Sawasaki would have put in place," Széczen eyed him. "That while you opposed him to avoid Chinese hegemony, you are in fact China's servant yourself. How would you respond to this?"

"The Chinese Federation is Japan's friend, not Japan's master," Zero replied, just loudly enough so that all around him could hear. "We have established effective working relations with the new government, and with her Imperial Majesty the Tianzi. Such a relationship is necessary for our security."

"His Excellency has a point," Alexios Stamakis, the Greek ambassador, spoke up. "All that sakuradite didn't do Genbu Kururugi much good."

"Indeed," Zero tried not to sound uncomfortable. "That is why we are trying to build security on the basis of international cooperation. You need not fear Kururugi-style grandstanding from Japan in the future."

"I am glad to hear it," Stamakis actually sounded sincere. "We have all seen the results. The thought that a man might cast his own country into the flames is not a pleasant one."

"Your recent victory caused quite a stir in the Japanese community," cut in Heinrich von Luckermayer, the German Confederation's ambassador. "I have been led to understand that you are seeking their return."

"It is my hope that all the refugees will return home as soon as possible," Zero chose his words carefully.

"Yet only a certain proportion have done so."

"We don't expect them to return overnight," Zero insisted. "Any uncertainty on their part is perfectly understandable. We are after all still in the process of rebuilding."

"A process which has gone with remarkable speed and efficiency," the King cut in, perhaps noting the pressure on his guest. "I must commend you on it."

"Even so," Luckermayer interjected, undeterred. "What do you intend to do with the leftover Britannians?"

"Yes," Stamakis added. "There are reports of tens or perhaps hundreds of thousands of them, and that they are effectively living in ghettoes. Far be it from me to weep over Britannians, but it may upset the Human Rights crowd."

Zero barely suppressed a shudder. What had happened to the Britannian population of the former Area 11 would have made Balkan nationalists go home and rethink their lives. The refugees robbed and murdered on the roads, the horrific 'Rape Dungeons' in which paying customers could take symbolic revenge on the Britannian nation. The latter had prompted the second of four purges of the Police. The worst incident by far had happened during the rebellion itself, when he had been forced to pull troops away from garrison duty in Iwate Prefecture. Within hours of their departure, and only days before the Battle of Nantan, mobs of Japanese rampaged through the settlements, looting, raping, and killing with wild abandon. He had been forced to lead Zero Squadron in person to restore order, and when the insurrectionists refused to cooperate, he had been forced to buy peace with their blood.

The irony did not escape him. He had been forced to turn on the people he had sworn to liberate in order to protect their former oppressors, albeit oppressors no longer. Those who remained now huddled in protected zones, some of them little more than concentration camps, the largest of which was the so-called 'Britannian Quarter' in Tokyo.

"It is true," Zero answered with as much aplomb as he could muster, "that our Britannian minority is somewhat vulnerable. However, our new Japan is open to all regardless of ethnicity or ideology. It is a commitment we intend to keep."

"Our experiences in Europe have shown us the difficulties of such a course," Széczen spoke up. "Though success would reflect very well upon you and Japan."

"Thank you, Ambassador." Zero was starting to feel rather put-upon. He was profoundly relived when the King steered him away.

"I'm sorry you had to endure that," he said, sounding sincere. "It happens to me regularly."

"Think nothing of it, your Majesty. It is as you warned it would be." Zero fingered the control in his pocket. He saw the faux-Lelouch raise a hand to his ear. After holding that pose for a few moments, Zero saw him make his excuses to Kallen, then head towards one of the side doors. It took some effort to stop staring at Kallen.

"Your Majesty," he gestured towards a cluster of grey-uniformed EUROFORCE officers. "Who is that?" He had not encountered _that_ one.

"The popular gentleman," the King replied, indicating the blonde Adonis at whose feet several young women were sighing, "is Squadron-Commander Julien Dantes of the EUROFORCE Paladin Corps, specifically the Inferno Squadron."

"Dantes' Inferno?"

"Very droll, your Excellency," the King smiled at the witticism. "From what I've heard he has a tendency towards womanizing, though he is a fine knightmare pilot." Zero was about to respond, but noticed Lelouch striding up to him.

"Your Excellency," the faux-Lelouch bowed. "There is a communication for you from Brussels. The caller insists that it cannot wait."

"Very well," Zero turned apologetically to the King. "Your Majesty, will you excuse me for a moment? I'm sure this will not take long."

"By all means."

The pair strode in a businesslike fashion out of the ballroom, along the corridor, and into a small office, Zero closing the door behind him. When Sayoko-Lelouch nodded to him, indicating that the room was secure, Zero whipped off his mask, slipping the contact lens into place, before turning to face his servant.

"Is everything in order?" he hissed, pulling off the costume.

"Yes," Sayoko replied, taking the costume from him and stepping into it. "Our contact reports that the first package has arrived, and the second is one its way."

"Good," Lelouch handed her the mask. "We'll be ready to make our move as soon as we reach Brussels. Did you memorize everything?"

"Yes. Lelouch-sama?" Sayoko paused a moment. "Why are we switching?"

"Just keeping them on their toes," Lelouch lied. "Come, we'd better not wait any longer." Sayoko shrugged and slipped on the mask. Lelouch opened the door for her, in perfect role-reversal, then followed her along the corridor. They encountered no one but the statuesque figures of the palace guards, lining the hallways in their ceremonial uniforms.

Upon their return to the ballroom, Lelouch left Sayoko-Zero with King Rudolph, heading over to Kallen. He found her engaged rather pointedly in a conversation with CC, her general demeanour implying that interruptions were not welcome. She looked up as he arrived.

"What took you so long!" she hissed, peeved at having spent her partner's absence suffering the questionable attentions of numerous older men until CC rescued her.

"Just taking care of business," he replied nonchalantly. "The first package has arrived."

"Oh," Kallen brightened somewhat. "So we're good to go?" She was the only one apart from Sayoko, Rollo, and CC who knew of his intentions.

"We are."

"I'll leave you two alone them," CC shot them a coy smile as she slinked off towards Sayoko-Zero. Lelouch was fairly certain she had spotted his deception, but it didn't much matter. He was where he wanted to be, even if he didn't really understand why.

All looked up to see the King standing in front of a microphone before the orchestra.

"My friends and honoured guests, we have a special surprise for you all tonight." The guests began muttering among themselves. "The Lady Tomoyo Daidouji, daughter of his Excellency Ambassador Daidouji, has consented to sing for us." There was some excited-sounding muttering and a smattering of applause as the young lady took up position before the orchestra.

Lelouch was captivated by the sight, a vision of poise and calm. It was as if she did not seem to realise where she was, or for whom she was singing. Or perhaps she did not care. As the introduction reached its climax, she began her song.

_Sabishii toki ni wa nukumori wo sagashi  
Haruka ni tadoru yo Natsukashii kioku wo_The guests gazed at her in wonderment as the song drifted over them. A gentle lullaby, that seemed to call to mind another time, another life. To hear it, one might think that rage was not the human destiny, that hate was not forever. One might almost think the world was newly-born.

Haha ga itoshigo wo kaina ni idaite  
Hidamari no naka de komoriuta wo utau

_Yumeji ni asobu osanako no hoho ni  
Yousei ga tsukuru shiawase no ekubo_Lelouch was overcome. The song stirred something inside him, something he had thought long dead. It made him think of winter firesides, of cherry blossoms in spring. In his mind's eye he saw a six-year-old Nunnally racing towards him across the grass. He saw the smiles of his siblings, and of his mother too. A memory welled up inside him, a memory of warmth and love, of all the things snatched away from him by an assassin's bullets and a father he barely knew.

Yume kara samete mo emi wo nokoshite 'ku  
Sonna yasashisa no tane ga kokoro ni aru

_Haritsumeta kokoro hodoite agetara  
Yasashisa no tane wo hitotsu maite okou_But he could not _hate_. The anger he was accustomed to did not come. Instead there was only a feeling of emptiness, a space where the things he had lost once dwelled. An emptiness that longed to be filled.

Yagate me wo dashi tsubomi wo hokorobu  
Utsukushii basho wo kokoro ni motsu nara

_Itsu ka wa dare mo ga sunda aozora wo  
Omoikiri takaku jiyuu ni habatakeru__ sono mune ni hana wo sakasete._

Jiyuu ni habatakeru

The guests broke into rapturous applause. Lelouch clapped until his hands ached, the exultation driving away the sorrow.

"Hey!" Kallen hissed. "Don't start _crying_!" Puzzled, Lelouch felt his cheek, and his fingers came away damp.

"I…I'm sorry," he whispered back. It was not necessary, since no one seemed to have noticed. All eyes were firmly on Tomoyo.

"What's with you?" Kallen was surprised. The song was beautiful, but she had never seen Lelouch like this before.

But, he was supposed to be Sayoko. Or…

"It's _you_ isn't it," she growled, barely audible over the sound of clapping. "You switched with Sayoko."

"I…" Lelouch faltered, embarrassed.

"You…wanted to be with me…that badly?" Kallen's cheeks reddened.

"Yes," Lelouch managed to reply. "I did."

"It doesn't change anything!" Kallen retorted far too quickly. "I'm not your girlfriend!"

"I know." The sincerity in his tone caught her off guard. The orchestra started up again, filling the ballroom with the opening lines of Strauss' _Künstlerleben._ It was time for the dancing. It was also, Lelouch remembered, Faramond's favourite.

"Will you and your companion have the first dance?" the King asked Zero.

"If it please your Majesty, I will defer to my two favourites." Lelouch and Kallen suddenly realised that they were the centre of attention.

"Come on now," Zero insisted cheerfully. "It's about time you two danced together." Kallen's face had turned the same colour as her hair. She glanced at Lelouch, only to see him extend his hand, bowing at the waist.

"Will you, Kallen?" Kallen tried to say something, but her mind was a blank. She stared into his eyes, and they seemed so _sincere_. Normally that was the last word she would have used when describing Lelouch, but she could not deny it.

She felt herself slip her hand into his, and allowed him to lead her to the floor. It was as though her body was moving by itself, even as he turned to face her, slipping his free hand about her waist.

The music swelled, and the dance began. It was not so complicated, when one knew how. They both knew how.

"_Get a hold of yourself!_" Kallen thought furiously. "_He is not my boyfriend!_" But as they danced, as she stared up into his eyes, felt his arm about her waist, she couldn't help but feel…_something. _

The pair spun gracefully across the floor, and all eyes were upon them. Some, notably Kaguya, were positively delighted. Her eyes were the size of plates. One or two young ladies, in sharp contrast, chewed on their handkerchiefs in barely-suppressed rage.

"_Oh Lulu…_" Kallen felt as though she was going to melt. The music seemed to carry her along, as if they were dancing on air. It was like a dream from her childhood, or a fairy tale.

* * *

Outside, a pair of shadows clung to the walls above the high windows. One of them was peering in.

"What do you see, Janus?" said one.

"They are talking, Thanatos," the other replied. "Laughing, dancing, loving."

"Does it hurt you to look upon them?" Thanatos wondered aloud. "Does their joy cause you pain? Or is it something else?"

"I can see her," Janus' tone was distant. "She is…so beautiful."

"No doubt," Thanatos commented, though he did not care to look for himself. "You have not completely broken with your past."

"I have," Janus insisted, turning his masked head to look up at his leader. "I am of no use to her now. I must live as I can, and she is better off without me."

"Be sure you remember that. We must…" Thanatos trailed off, his crimson visor turning towards the palace gardens, and the forest just beyond it.

"What is it?" Janus caught on immediately.

"Twelve, in two teams of six," Thanatos scanned along the trees bordering the gardens. "Standard single-file pattern. Maybe two minutes before the inner perimeter."

"Britannian?"

"More than likely. No alarm." That meant they had somehow made it through the outer perimeter scanners in the forest. These were no ordinary intruders.

"Their target?"

"Who do you think?" A pause.

"Take the left," Thanatos said eventually. "Don't get seen."

"By your command."

* * *

Lelouch and Kallen were no longer the only pairs on the dance floor. Now that they had had the honour of the first dance, there was no reason for the others to hold back.

"Who do you see?" Lelouch murmured, barely audible over the strains of _Rosen aus dem Süden_. Kallen glanced sideways.

"Tohdoh's with Nagisa." No surprise there. Tohdoh was wearing his characteristic neutral-running-to-disgruntled expression, while Nagisa looked as though she was dancing on air. "Pizza Girl's with the King, Konoe's with the Queen, that guy Constantian's with that EUROMED girl, Kobayashi." At that, Lelouch looked up and followed her gaze. The albino was indeed dancing with Akiko Kobayashi, and they were easily the most awkward pair on the floor. It was not so much their dancing, but their general manner.

"Those two don't look very comfortable," Kallen commented. "Hey, that guy Dantes is with Minase." She was indeed in the arms of the handsome officer, and looked as though her brain had floated away on a pink cloud. The sight reminded Kallen of precisely where she was and what she was doing.

"_Oh Lulu…wait a minute! I'm not supposed to be enjoying this! Remember! He's arrogant and cynical! He doesn't understand a young girl's feelings! Focus on the mission!_"

"Are you all right?" The voice drew her back to the present, and she found herself looking straight into his face.

_And his eyes. _

"_NO! He is not my boyfriend!_"

"I'm fine," she managed to regain her composure. "I was just…thinking."

"About?"

"I…never thought we'd be doing anything like this," she said. "A year ago we were hiding out in sewers. Who'd have thought we'd be dancing in a Royal palace?"

"It's been a strange journey for me too," Lelouch admitted, smiling. "But I'm glad of it."

"Me too." Kallen did not know why she had said it, but she knew she meant it. "Anyway, where did you learn to dance like this?"

"I learned when I was young," Lelouch managed not mention Aries Villa, or the number of times he had stood on Euphemia's feet, or for that matter the number of times she had stood on _his_ feet. "And you?"

"The same," Kallen admitted. "After I moved in with my father, that is."

"I see," Lelouch saw the flicker of ill-feeling in her eyes. "Well then, who am I dancing with?" Kallen did not reply, her face reddening again. It was not a question she could easily answer.

"With me," she replied. "Kallen Kozuki."

"Really?" Lelouch teased, unable to resist. "Since when was Kallen Kozuki so beautiful?"

"Don't make me stand on your foot" Kallen hissed back.

**

* * *

****(A belated Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all to whom they are relevant. I only regret I was unable to get this ready for Christmas, but here it is nonetheless. I find romance in general, quite tricky, and I hope they came out right. Faramond and Tomoyo's part was especially hard, since I'm not sure what would be believable at their ages. **

**Tomoyo's song is **_**Yasashisa no Tane**_**, one of her most famous, and can be found on Youtube, as can both waltzes. The song sung by her and Faramond is **_**Kutsu ga naru,**_** a rather old Japanese children's song.**)

**Corrections and canonicity issues**

**- Faramond and Tomoyo should be five and six years old respectively in 2009, with Faramond being born in 2004. The confusion is the result of confusion in the background material over the year of Nunnally's birth, since I intended him to be younger than her. His birthday is relevant to the plot and will not be revealed until later. **


	11. The Misfortune of Virtue

**Chapter Eleven: The Misfortune of Virtue**

_One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood._

_Seneca_

_**Then**_

_**Special Autonomous Zone of Japan, Area 11, December 10 2017 ATB**_

"It is my fond hope that Britannians and Japanese alike will…"

There was a momentary stir as Princess Euphemia faltered. Gasps rang out from those seated closest to the dais. Some of them who survived later claimed to have seen a flash of red.

The shot reverberated across the stadium.

By then she was falling backwards, into the arms of her faithful knight, Suzaku Kururugi. By then, the air was rent with screams.

The stadium descended into bedlam. The Japanese were on their feet, shouting and screaming, surging forward as a line of soldiers struggled to hold them back from the dais. Some ran for the exits, and soon all were blocked. The knightmares were active, heads scanning back and forth, guns raised to fire. It would take only one little mistake, one little misjudgement, to send it all straight to hell.

In front of the dais, one of the soldiers lost his footing and fell down. The crowd surged forward, blocking the path from the dais to the players' tunnel. More soldiers ran to their comrade's assistance, beating at the Japanese with their rifle butts. At first the Japanese fell back, screaming in protest as blood ran from broken noses and cuts, allowing a medical team to race past with a stretcher. A chair flew over their heads to crash down in the open space beside the dais. And another, and another, until one of them caught one of the medical team on the head, pitching him off the dais steps.

They were soldiers. They were not police, trained to disperse such a riot with minimal bloodshed. They were soldiers, and soldiers were trained to kill.

The adrenalin whooshed. The guns roared. The Japanese screamed. The bodies fell.

"Cease firing!" roared the scar-faced Andreas Darlton, from his position atop the dais. "Cease firing!" But it was too late. Now the knightmares were firing, their 30mm Assault Rifles tearing bloody swathes through the roiling crowds. Some of the Japanese tried to fight back, hurling chairs or whatever else they could find. Most just ran, fighting their way to the exits, which were already blocked with shoving, kicking bodies. Many were crushed to death, their lifeless bodies carried along in the press. Infants sat wailing by their dead parents, only to be trampled. Far above, several Britannian dignitaries were already being hustled to safety.

The Japanese boiled out into the streets, fleeing in blind panic. Soon the Britannian troops were in pursuit, gunning down any they could find.

It was then that the Black Knights appeared.

They came, racing out of the forest like cavalry of old. The Britannians were disorganised, too busy chasing down the despised Japanese, too high on released tension to hear the frantic commands of their superiors, ordering them to reassemble. The Black Knights were upon them in the blink of an eye, and they were slaughtered.

When they had killed every Britannian soldier they could find, the Black Knights gathered at the stadium, where their leader, Zero was said to be.

As they did, the people began to wander back. Some came looking for friends or loved ones, others just wanted to know what had happened. Some Black Knights personnel, with the help of volunteers, had already moved the dead and wounded inside, but the field was still slick with blood, the walls pock-marked with bullet holes.

But Zero wasn't there.

The senior Black Knights gathered inside the north stand, outside the room in which Zero had locked himself. No one felt much like saying anything.

A howl of anguish made them all jump. A moment later, Diethard slid through the door and closed it behind him. He looked drained.

"We intercepted a message sent from the _Avalon_ a few minutes ago," he said, his tone grave. "She's gone."

"Who did this!" The snarling voice drew them all from their thoughts. It was Kallen, and she looked ready to kill with her bare hands. "Who's responsible for this!"

"Why do you care?" asked Yoshida sourly, too downhearted to consider what he was saying. "I thought you hated her."

"I never said that!" Kallen snapped back, making several of the assembled Black Knights flinch. Only a few, those left over from the old Shinjuku resistance cell, had seen her like this.

"I…" she faltered, voice cracking. "Okay, she was a stupid, naïve little girl, and she didn't have the guts to try and change the world." She sniffed, fighting back the tears. "We were just…a little puppy to her. A little puppy she wanted to pick up and cuddle."

"But is that so terrible!" she shrieked, thrusting an accusing finger at the bloody field. "Is it worse than _this_!"

"Ain't that just like Britannia," Tamaki growled bitterly. "The poor kid tries to do some good, and they kick it over and stamp on it. They didn't deserve her."

"I reckon the Britannians did it!" snapped Kizuna Kagesaki. "Isn't it obvious! They killed her to stop this happening!"

"Do you know how crazy that sounds?" Nagisa Chiba snapped back. "Like they'd kill their own Princess!"

"We don't even know who actually did it," Ougi insisted, trying to calm things down.

"We do now." All looked to see Tohdoh enter, grim-faced. "We found a body high up on the south stand, complete with a rifle. We couldn't make out the face on account of a 30mm round, but we found this." He held up a wallet and opened it, revealing inside a Britannian-issue ID card, which all Numbers were required to carry. The name and face were clear.

"Tenryo," Kallen growled.

"You're sure?" Diethard asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"We won't know for sure until the DNA test," Tohdoh replied. "But he was on the shortlist for the Sniper Division."

"But where did the rifle come from!" Ougi blurted out. "Was the security that bad?"

"We also found a Britannian soldier in the toilets, minus his rifle and a great deal of blood" Tohdoh went on. "Tenryo most likely jumped him and headed straight out. It wasn't exactly a difficult shot. _I_ could've done it easily."

"Tenryo," Tamaki snarled. "If this gets out…"

"Will it?" Ougi looked from one to the other, more than a little panic-stricken. "Who knew he was…one of us?"

"We do," Diethard replied sternly. "And no one else." There was silence as this was taken in.

"Why did he do it?" Kallen had calmed somewhat, but she was still fuming. "We had Zero's orders!"

"Some of the rank and file were unhappy with Zero's decision to cooperate," Ryoga Senba spoke up. "Especially the ones like him, from right of the centre."

"We should never have let those rightists in!" Yoshida hissed. "They haven't changed! And here's the proof!"

"What were we supposed to do!" Ougi rounded on him. "We needed all the manpower we could get!"

"Naoto wouldn't have let them in!" Yoshida snarled back.

"Stop that right now!" Kallen turned her blazing eyes on him. "There's a time and a place!"

"He has a point," Tohdoh interjected. "Tenryo dishonoured us all with one bullet. I want to know…"

He trailed off as the door opened. All looked to see Zero standing there. Though his face was covered, he seemed drained.

"Everyone," he said, his voice hoarse. "Save the long knives for later. There is important work to do."

"Yes," Diethard agreed. "As I informed Zero a few minutes ago, we have reports of armed uprisings breaking out all across Japan. The Britannians are in a shambles, and Cornelia seems to have disappeared."

"Then now it is time, surely," Tohdoh spoke up. "We'll never get another chance like this."

"But we're not ready!" Chiba protested. "Our preparations aren't complete. We don't have enough weapons. We haven't finished organising our allies."

"Nevertheless, we must," Zero agreed. "It seems destiny has set us upon the path of blood. We can but follow, and make what we will of it." With that, he headed down the stairs. After a moment's bewildered pause, his Black Knights followed. They followed him down to the players tunnel, from which they could hear the rumblings and chants of an increasingly agitated crowd. They followed him out and onto the dais, through the deafening roar.

"Japanese!" Zero began, the crowds quieting at the sound of his voice. "And all the oppressed peoples of this world!" His tone was no longer sorrowful, but now wrathful. "Long I have waited in the shadows, hoping that Britannia would change its ways! Instead, they have done this dreadful thing, this act of barbarism!" He paused, gathering his breath.

"Friends, I must tell you," his tone softened, his words catching in his throat. There was a murmuring among the crowd. It was almost as though Zero was weeping. "I must tell you…that Princess Euphemia…is dead."

A howl of despair went up. Looking over the crowd, Zero saw grown men bursting into tears, women sobbing, children wailing. All their sorrows focussed into a single thread, a single thought, of one person.

None of them could see the tears on his face.

"Friends," he said again, forcing himself to speak clearly. "She cared for us. She sought to help us, to ease our suffering, and soothe our pain. _AND LOOK WHAT THEY HAVE DONE!_" His shout echoed across the stadium, shocking the weeping Japanese from their grief.

"I tell you, friends, it was not the Japanese who did this!" he roared. "The Britannians will say so, but their words are lies! It was _they_ who did this! It was _this_ man," at that moment, an image of Kyosuke Tenryo flashed onto the main screen, care of some quick work by Diethard. "This man, Kyosuke Tenryo, a traitor in the pay of Britannia, who murdered her! This, friends, is the true face of Britannia! A nation without compassion! A nation without honour! Nothing more than a pack of robber-barons, raping and pillaging as they please! They would murder their own Princess for trying to help us! They would murder their own Princess, rather than treat the Japanese as human beings! They would sooner tear out their own corrupted hearts than show a drop of compassion!"

Grief turned to rage. Wails of despair turned to shouts of fury.

"MURDERERS!"

"AVENGE HER!"

"DEATH TO BRITANNIA!"

Zero kept silent for a while, waiting for the screaming to die down.

"Friends, Princess Euphemia is gone from this life. But her spirit is with us, watching over us, comforting us. She is a martyr to us all." He scanned his eyes over the crowd, and knew that they agreed.

"Her beautiful dreams cannot come true," he went on. "So we will build a new reality. I hereby declare our independence from Britannia, but don't take this to mean the resurrection of your fallen nation. We will not turn back the hands of time. The new Japan we go on to build, shall accept all peoples, histories, and ideologies. Where the strong shall not rein over the weak. Our new country has no need of an arrogant title. Its name shall be…_Japan_!"

The crowds cheered, shouting their approbation to the very heavens.

"I cannot do this alone! I cannot fight Britannia alone!" He held out his arms to the crowd. "Will you help me, friends! Will you follow me!"

_ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! ZERO! _

"_Now it begins_," Zero thought. "_Euphie…please forgive me_."

_**

* * *

**__**Now**_

_**Strelsau, Ruritania, EU, July 1st 2018 ATB**_

The edge of the forest was swathed in white, hiding what had been discovered only a short time ago. Royal Guards clad in battle gear stood guard at regular intervals.

Zero stormed towards the scene, making little effort to hide his mood. He had been awakened from a very pleasant dream by the sound of Tohdoh banging on the door. It had been all he could do to shower quickly, throw on his costume, and come see what all the fuss was about.

And what a fuss. Word was that several bodies had been found at the edge of the forest. The guards had thoroughly searched the palace, so there was no particular danger, but it was not something he could ignore either.

As he reached the edge, two of the guards moved to block his path.

"Please return to the palace, your Excellency" one of them said in a clipped tone. "You and your party will be safe there." Indeed, Zero had not come alone. Tohdoh and the Four Holy Swords had invited themselves along. Kallen had wanted to come too, but he had made her stay inside, in keeping with her _helpless damsel_ role.

"I was told the King was overseeing your operation," Zero replied, keeping his tone level. "It is imperative that I speak with him."

"This is an internal Ruritanian matter, your Excellency," the guard went on, not budging. "You must…"

"Your Excellency," a flap was pushed aside and King Rudolph stepped out, the guard stepping aside and saluting as he came. "I fear there has been…an incident."

"I am led to understand that bodies have been found, your Majesty," Zero pressed. "Bodies with weapons."

"I won't ask how you came about that information," the King replied suspiciously.

"Please allow us to assist," Zero insisted. "We may be of some assistance for the time being." The King gave him an appraising look, then turned, gesturing for them to follow.

The atmosphere inside had a surreal quality. Under the sheets the forest was as it was, apart from several people moving about and a series of tables set up. Zero felt like he was inside a child's tent made of bed sheets in the garden. That was until he saw the objects of all the attention.

There were eleven white sheets, laid over what were unmistakably human bodies. They lay scattered about in a seemingly random pattern, which explained why the guards had felt the need to cover such a large area. He heard a series of clicks as photographs were taken, and a low rumble of conversation. He suspected that this was no ordinary multiple murder.

"Who are they?" he asked, following the King over to one of the covered bodies. "Guests?"

"No," replied a tall, heavy-set man in Royal Guard fatigues, who was standing by the body. "All guests, guards, and staff have been accounted for."

"Your Excellency, this is Colonel Lauengram of my Guards." Lauengram saluted, Zero acknowledging with a nod, and his companions with salutes. "Colonel, his Excellency wishes to assist in the investigation. Would you please show us the body?"

"Yes, your Majesty." Lauengram hunkered down and lifted the white sheet.

The body was a human male, clad in dark fatigues and armour, blatantly intended for stealthy movement in darkness or low light. The head was entirely concealed by a helmet, complete with night-vision visor and face mask. Zero felt his stomach churn as he saw the unnatural angle of the head, and the fist-sized crater in the torso.

"They are…all like this?" he managed to say.

"All of them," Lauengram replied, his tone cool and professional. "If you want a closer look, the Pathologist is examining one of them." Lauengram gestured to a cordoned-off area lined with plastic sheets. A table with several boiler-suited persons clustered around it was visible inside. Zero and company followed the King and Lauengram, paused as a flap was lifted aside, and followed on.

Zero felt his stomach churn as he saw what lay on the table. This corpse was little different from the one he had just seen, but the clothes and armour had been removed for examination. He could see the head lying sideways, glazed eyes staring blankly. He could see the crater in the chest, the natural contours distorted beyond recognition. And yet there was no bruising and no blood.

"What was the cause of death?" he managed to ask aloud.

"Blunt force trauma to the central chest," replied a boiler-suited man, without looking up. He spoke in German, which Zero translated for the benefit of his followers.

"Well there's an understatement," Shogo Asahina commented dryly. "His heart must've been crushed. How come there's no blood?"

"The neck was snapped immediately afterwards, here, as you can see," the boiler-suited man, clearly the Pathologist, tapped the exposed neck with his gloved finger. Zero could not tell whether he had understood Asahina's question or not. "Death was instantaneous, hence the lack of blood or bruising. The only blood was on his chin, indicating evacuation as a result of the strike to the chest."

"Herr Doctor," Tohdoh spoke up in German. "Found you any sign of identity?"

"None of any kind," the Pathologist replied, after a moment's pause. Zero was mildly surprised himself. He had not known that Tohdoh could speak German. "There are no marks, no tattoos, nothing that I can see."

"I see…very well." Zero just about managed to stay on his feet as he exited, ignoring a muttered comment from the Pathologist. He had seen dead bodies before, but there was something…_wrong_ about that one.

"Can we see the equipment?" Tohdoh spoke up. Lauengram nodded and led them over to a series of tables, where more boiler-suited personnel were sealing various items inside clear bags. Lauengram picked up one of the bagged items and held it up for them to see. It was a carbine, short and black.

"Looks Britannian," Nagisa commented.

"It is," Lauengram agreed. "Several years old, and commercially available, if you know who to ask. All identification marks and serial numbers filed off."

"So," Zero spoke up. "Whoever this is, they have gone to great lengths to conceal who they are."

"They also penetrated our security up to and including the second line," Lauengram added. "This implies considerable skill. I would say Britannian Alpha Force commandos."

"I concur," Tohdoh commented. "For there is also this." He held up a small black cylinder, bagged like the gun. "Britannia's new-model silencer, capable of suppressing all detectable emissions except for the bullet itself. Mercenaries are unlikely to possess such devices."

"Is that why the second line scanners didn't detect gunfire?" Nagisa asked.

"More than likely," Tohdoh agreed. "That, and the fact that they were able to disable the scanners as well," he scrupulously avoided looking at Lauengram, "strongly implies a Spec-Ops outfit, or mercenaries formerly of such an outfit."

"They're not mercenaries," Zero interjected. "One does not just _leave_ Alpha Force."

"_But why?_" he thought at the same time. "_This isn't Schneizel's style. Who could've ordered this?_" He turned to the King and bowed his head.

"Your Majesty," he said, his tone formal. "It seems that my coming here has put you, your family, and your guests in danger. I think it best if I take my leave immediately."

"I'm afraid that cannot be permitted," Lauengram interjected. "We are still in the process of sweeping Strelsau. If you leave now, you run the risk of attack by a reserve force hiding in the city."

"How long will it take?"

"A few hours, no more."

"I can have a train laid on for you in the meantime," the King spoke up. "You can travel to Brussels in comfort, as soon as Colonel Lauengram has finished."

"Thank you, your Majesty" Zero bowed again. "I will never forget your generosity."

Anxiety gnawed at him, a cold place under his heart, made all the colder by the knowledge that there were other forces at work. Forces of terrifying power, of which he knew little or nothing.

_"But of course, you have no conception of the games that are in play. You don't even know who my opponent is." _

He _hated_ mysteries. They had the power to ruin all his plans.

After making pleasantries with the King, he turned and strode out of the tent.

"Your Excellency! Regent Zero!" Zero froze in surprise as he practically walked into a young woman.

"Yes, how may I…" Then he saw her face. That bronze skin, with that turquoise hair and those golden eyes. The hair hung loose, rather than tied in a pony tail as it had been before. But he knew who it was.

"Chigusa Sato," the young woman identified herself, "from _European Affairs_. I was here for the Soiree, but I couldn't help but notice all these goings on. Do you have a statement regarding it?" Without waiting for a reply, she thrust a portable recorder in his face. Typical journalist.

"I…I can tell you that his Majesty is personally overseeing the investigation," Zero replied, choosing his words carefully. "Also, the Royal Guards have everything under control. I have absolute confidence both in his Majesty and the Ruritanian authorities. Did you get all that?"

"Yes, thank you," Chigusa nodded. "While we're here, would you tell our readers what your intentions are?"

"My intentions?" Zero paused for a moment. "To put it simply, I'm here to ensure the safety of Japan. I would prefer not to say any more for now." And with that, he stepped past Chigusa and headed for the Palace. The others followed on, carefully avoiding Chigusa's eye as they went.

Villetta Nu watched them go, her smiling face concealing her pounding heart.

"_That was close. Too close._"

She had taken an enormous risk in coming, relying on the false papers she acquired in Hong Kong to get her into the EU safely. She had one crucial advantage over other OSI agents, in that EUROSEC probably did not know she even existed. Few outside of Japan even knew of her connection to the OSI, and she had never served in the European theatre. As such, they would not be looking for Villetta Nu.

Choosing the name _Chigusa_, the name of her disgrace, had been a wrench. But it was a name she was guaranteed to remember. Combined with the surname _Sato_, which was conveniently common, she had a new identity. She did not want to tempt fate by using her real name.

It had been a nerve-wracking night. She had managed to get in, but had spent the entire Soiree looking over her shoulder, making sure that she did not accidentally encounter _him_. On the plus side, she had been able to listen in on a great many conversations, both among the guests _and_ the other journalists.

And in so doing, she had learned a great many things.

She had seen Prince Lelouch, in his guise as Lelouch Lamperouge, waltz with Kallen Stadtfeld, otherwise known as Kallen Kozuki, the Red Lotus. Not only was he a member of the Black Knights, but to be that close to one of the principal members?

No, she was quite certain of it. There could be no denying the look in their eyes.

She had also ascertained that just about everyone present was firmly against the peace negotiations. That seemed to have been the event's purpose, to bring them together in a place where they could socialize and scheme. She had seen Zero meet with all manner of troublesome characters, including Masakado Daidouji and Catherine de Braganza. His intent was plain, to make connections with others who sought Britannia's overthrow.

But what to do about it?

Right now, her instincts were telling her to get out of the EU while she still had the chance. She saw little else she could do, besides pass her information to her OSI superiors as soon as it was safe to do so. She had no weapons, since bringing any into the palace would have almost certainly gotten her caught, so going after Zero was not an option. Making contact with Rolo was an option, but a risky one, for she could no longer be certain of his loyalties. She supposed she could try and confront Prince Lelouch directly, but what should she do then? Try to talk him out of all this? Persuade him to give up the path of treachery and return with her?

Could she be entirely certain which was which?

But that was easily the most useful bit of information she had acquired. There were, she had ascertained, at least two people who might act as Zero. One of them was Prince Lelouch, this she already knew, but she had not yet identified the other. She was certain that the switch had taken place just before Tomoyo Daidouji's song. Zero had made all of his most important conversations before then, and then he and his aide, Lelouch Lamperouge, had left the ballroom together for a few minutes. Then, directly after the song, Zero had deferred the first dance to Lelouch and Kallen.

It was blatantly obvious, at least to anyone who knew as much as she did.

Villetta made up her mind. She would return to Hong Kong immediately, and pass this information on, as soon as the security lockdown was lifted.

As long as she could stay out of sight of Ougi, she stood a fighting chance.

_**

* * *

**__**Arras, France, July 1st 2018 ATB**_

It was a beautiful land.

So Suzaku Kururugi thought, as he stood on the northern perimeter tower, staring out over the Arras countryside. It was as green and pleasant as Japan had seemed to him, so many years ago. He could understand why the French had fought so viciously, and suffered so terribly, to defend it.

He was alone at the top of the tower, a bracing wind on his face. It gave him space to think, to be alone, as opposed to merely _feeling _alone. He felt that way all the time.

It was his destiny to be alone. It was the punishment of the Gods against him, for his myriad wrongdoings. He had found hope, something to live for, in the dreams of a princess.

And so, the Gods had taken her from him. What was more, they had handed his beloved, wretched homeland, to his worst enemy. For an act of loving betrayal, of well-intentioned murder, he was forever damned.

It drove him to rage at times. Had he not suffered enough? Had he not paid for his sins a thousand times over?

Genbu Kururugi had been a traitor himself. A traitor to his country, provoking the war so that Japan would fall, and thus he would be rewarded with the power he craved. A traitor to the two helpless children in his charge, for he would have murdered Lelouch vi Britannia, and sold his sister Nunnally to a brothel.

A traitor to his son, for his actions had destroyed all of Suzaku Kururugi's illusions.

He wondered if Zero would ever find the courage to admit the truth, to tell the Japanese people the truth about their martyr. He had little to fear from their disillusionment, for the Japanese had found a new martyr in the meantime.

_Santa Euphemia._

How strange it was, how ironic. The Princess given the name of a Christian martyr would become a martyr herself, the mother goddess of a tormented land, comforter of a suffering people.

People who had destroyed her.

He had heard of the followers of Santa Euphemia. They were Japanese who could no longer bear the burden of rage and hate. They took her words and deeds to heart, and sought to emulate her example, going among their fellows to comfort and assist them in any way they could. They asked no reward, bore no arms, offered no violence, not even in their own defence.

So they died, as she had died, at the hands of those who could not give up their hate. Those whose hearts would not answer.

Were he truly strong, were he truly noble, he would do as they had done. He would leave his old life behind, and tell all the world of Euphemia li Britannia. He would tell them of her kindness, of her hopes, of her dreams for all humanity. He would love those who scorned him, do good to those who hurt him, forgive those who betrayed him.

But he could not. Not while _he _still lived.

It was not enough that Zero, no, Lelouch, had risen to power on the legend of his murdered love. It was not enough that he had harnessed the grief and rage of the Japanese to his cause, made her his personal martyr. Now he had come to Europe, to bask in the adulation of those nations still free of Britannia, to yoke them to his bloody cause, and continue the war Euphemia had so ardently wished to end.

He had seen the pictures. He had seen Lelouch and Kallen twirling across the ballroom floor, lost in each-other's eyes. It made his blood boil to see it, to know what it meant.

And then he felt unworthy, dirty, despicable. He hated himself, for he knew that the sight would have filled Euphemia's heart with joy.

His eyes brimmed with tears as he looked up into the clear blue sky. He had come out there to see it, hoping that it might calm his fury. It had not.

"_Euphie. Forgive me. I'm not worthy._" Grief and shame welled up within him.

"Euphie!" he wailed, in anguished, pleading prayer. "Euphie! Help me!" He slumped against the parapet, lowering his head as the tears flowed. "Please…_please help me_. I can't be like you! I can't…I can't live without you! _Euphie…_!"

He fell silent. Words would not suffice.

A twinge of awareness alerted him that he was not alone. Suzaku stood up, wiping at his face, embarrassed at having been seen.

"I'm…sorry you had to see that…Lord Custer." The last he said as he saw who it was. The Knight's face was expressionless, but there was sympathy in his eyes.

"You do not need to apologise, Sir Suzaku," he replied, his tone sincere. "I know something of suffering, of loss. And Princess Euphemia…" he paused. "She was…unique."

"You knew her?"

"It is…a poor story," Aramis sounded embarrassed. "I do not often tell it."

"Tell me," Suzaku said, sincerely.

"I was only a little child," he said, remembering. "It was in the Imperial Cathedral, around Christmas time. I remember the choir was singing so beautifully. Her Highness was in the Imperial Gallery, with others as I recall. It was after the benedictions, and," he paused, his face reddening. "I was down there, kneeling, with my family and so many others, and I just happened to glance up there. She was looking down…and she looked straight at me, and then…" he trailed off.

"What?" Suzaku was intrigued.

"She made the benediction, upon me." Aramis sighed. "It must seem such a silly thing, after all, she was just a child aping her elders. But I never wanted to get up from my knees, for that was where I belonged, in her presence."

"It's not a silly thing," Suzaku insisted, and he meant it.

"From then on, I wanted nothing more than to be a knight," Aramis went on. "I wanted to serve the Imperial Family for all my days, with all my strength, for what little it is worth."

"I know," Suzaku replied hoarsely. "I only became a knight because of her. I was a Devicer before that, but she chose me, even though I was unworthy. Though she learned of my unworthiness, of my true self, she did not forsake me."

"Do not be ashamed of your tears, Sir Suzaku Kururugi," Aramis said forcefully. "They are manly tears, for a woman who is worthy of them."

"I killed my father. Did you know that?" Suzaku had not meant to say it. The words just came out, unbidden.

"Yes," Aramis lowered his eyes. "When I ascended to the Round Table, I was given the highest security clearance. I learnt…a great many things."

"My father is to blame for the war," Suzaku went on, _wanting_ to tell him. "He asked certain people in Britannia to bring about the invasion, in return for a position of power in the new colonial government. He was willing to murder Prince Lelouch and Princess Nunnally, who were in his care, to bring this about. His only change of heart was to sell the Princess to a brothel rather than kill her." He glanced at Aramis. "Can you believe such a thing, Lord Custer?"

"Yes, Sir Suzaku," Aramis replied sadly, much to Suzaku's surprise. "I can believe a great many things about Britannia." He sighed.

"I love Britannia," he said quietly. "It is my homeland, the place where my soul dwells. I love it, for all that other Britannians may do. Yet I fear the world does not see my homeland, not as I do. They see only the Empire."

"You are ashamed of the Empire?" Suzaku asked.

"We have so much, yet we take from those who have little," he replied. "Our homeland reaches from ocean to ocean, from the cold north to the Tropic of Cancer. Is that not enough?" he turned his head to look straight at Suzaku. "Surely that would be enough for anyone. And yet we conquered other lands, and seek to conquer more. I fear we are addicted to conquest."

"The Emperor says that conquest is necessary," Suzaku commented. "Others say that Britannia must conquer, or else it will die."

"His Majesty…" Aramis paused, his thoughts running up against a solid wall, behind which was something he dared not think. "There are too many in the Empire who lust for conquest. Our military industry is so large that it needs a vast military just to break even, and wars to make a profit. Our armed forces must fight, that some in its ranks will die, and others be promoted to take their places. There must be competition, struggle, and violence, or aspirations cannot be fulfilled. That is what Britannia has become."

"And it is not to your liking?"

"I sometimes wonder," Aramis went on, "if honour means anything any more. I longed to serve, in accordance with the ways of honour, integrity, and dignity. Yet all around me, I see murder and plunder. It seems that greed is all that matters."

"It doesn't have to be that way," Suzaku insisted. "At least, Princess Euphemia thought it didn't."

"In the end, all I can do is fight," Aramis sighed. "I believe that if this war ends, Prince Schneizel can change Britannia for the better. It's what she would have wanted."

"I agree, but I can't stop just yet," Suzaku clenched his fist. "I want to kill Zero, and I want to kill the Red Lotus too. I want to take his Princess as he took mine, before his very eyes."

"You're certain he's responsible?" Aramis looked surprised. "The evidence against him is slim."

"I know that," Suzaku forced his fist to unclench. "I also know that Euph…Princess Euphemia wouldn't want that. But if they try to stop this treaty, then I will kill them. I'll kill them, not for my revenge, but for the sake of peace. Maybe she will understand."

"And what will you do then?"

"There are still people in this world whom I want to protect," Suzaku went on. "Princess Nunnally has requested that Prince Faramond be allowed to live with her, and no longer remain in seclusion. I will ask her for permission to attend upon her. I will be their Knight, as I was Princess Euphemia's Knight, and protect them for the rest of my days."

"Then let me fight by your side." Aramis straightened up and held out his right hand. Suzaku stared at it for a moment, then did likewise, clasping it in his own.

"I would be your right hand, if you would be my left," Aramis intoned.

"I would be your sword-arm, if you would be my shield," Suzaku replied, sealing the old oath.

_**

* * *

**__**Bavaria, German Confederation, EU, July 1st 2018 ATB**_

Zero had no time to enjoy the Bavarian countryside as it flashed past.

Instead, seated in the conference compartment of the train laid on by King Rudolph, he prepared to see the fruits of his most recent espionage coup. Syzmanowski had really come through for him.

"My subordinates managed to collate the information and send it back to us," Diethard began. "I would like to recommend them for commendations."

"Of course," Zero replied. He was more than a little impressed that they had managed to pull it all together so quickly. It had come only a few hours ago, after all.

"The information consists of a full description of EUROFORCE's new battle plan, along with the forces available." Diethard touched a control, and the hologram projector flickered into life, showing a representation of Europe and western Russia, the positions and strengths of all the EU and Britannian forces laid out on it. As he saw the dispositions, Zero wondered at the usefulness of his Geass. It had to be the espionage coup of the war, and all it had taken was a few words. So long as Syzmanowski didn't get caught.

The EU had finally completed the massive re-arming programme that the invasion of Japan had provoked. Their forces had expanded considerably, or so it seemed on the map. Occupied France was facing invasion all along its eastern border, from around one hundred thousand Free French, five-hundred thousand German, five-hundred thousand Austro-Hungarian, and two-hundred thousand Italian forces, with Belgian, Dutch, and Danish forces in support roles. To the north, along the south coast of Great Britain, he could see British and Norwegian forces, numbering around two-hundred thousand total. Against them were around a million Britannian troops, arranged in three Army Groups in the north, middle, and south, with reserves further back. That gave the EU forces have as many troops again as those of Britannia. Not enough for a decisive numerical advantage.

The plan, dubbed _Operation Halo Dawn_, consisted of a three phases. The First phase consisted of a massive artillery and missile bombardment, while airborne and commando elements launched their attacks. Warships and aircraft based in Britain would at the same time launch attacks against the Britannian carrier-battleships, seeking to tie them up. The commando targets were airbases and SAM sites, while the airborne forces were being sent towards a series of cities and towns some distance from the front. The success of the former was necessary for the success of the latter.

It seemed strange, until Zero noticed that the cities and towns in question were where the three army groups were keeping their supplies. Those particular cities were obvious choices, being not only road and rail hubs, but with airports and warehouse space. They were obvious targets, and each appeared to have around a division's worth of troops garrisoning it. Destroy those supplies, or even _capture _them, and the Britannian forces would found themselves without fuel or supplies in a matter of days. The second phase was comparatively simple. The Free French forces, backed by the Belgians and Dutch, would strike straight into northern France, against General Fortschen's Army Group North. German and Austro-Hungarian forces would strike at General Crowood's Army Group East, while the Italians would strike at General Reeves' Army Group South, supported by airborne and mountain warfare units from the other state armies. The British and Norwegian troops would thrust into western France to strike from the rear. In the east, on the Russian front, the plan was basically the same. The third phase was mopping up and consolidation.

It wasn't a bad plan, all things considered. Depriving the Britannians of their air cover was rarely a bad idea, and neither was depriving them of their supplies. The problem was that Schneizel was not going to simply let it happen. He could deploy reserves north to block any attempt to land in northern France, and have some left over to reinforce the supply hubs. This left the airborne units twenty-four hours in which to accomplish their missions. On top of this, deploying airborne troops would be impracticable so long as the Britannians had any kind of aerial capability. Those air bases and SAM sites _had_ to be neutralized, or Schneizel had only to hold his ground until more troops could be brought from Africa. He also had Suzaku Kururugi and three Knights of the Round Table, which meant he had four Seventh-Generation knightmares at his disposal.

"_They cannot win the war on their own_," he thought. "_But they can cause enough trouble in a given place at a given time._"

"It's not a bad plan," he said aloud. "But what are _those_?" He pointed at the units assigned to strike at the SAM sites. Each was designated with a small gold letter U on a black circle, and no details on their strength or position. In fact, no information at all besides their targets.

"Black Ultra," Diethard replied grimly. "The EU's highest level of encryption. My subordinates couldn't break it."

"You think it's those guys from before?" Tamaki looked unsettled. "I mean, those don't seem like something they'd admit to having."

"It's not a bad plan overall," Tohdoh spoke up, tactfully changing the subject. He too had seen the fear in their eyes. "If the first phase goes to plan, then they should pull it off."

"_If_ it goes to plan," Ougi interjected. "I mean, twenty-four hours to get in and secure those supplies. That sounds awfully tight."

"It _is_ tight," Tohdoh agreed. "It all comes down to whether they can disable the SAM sites or not, and how many planes they can destroy on the ground, and whether or not they can get support from their carriers in the Atlantic."

"_Twenty-four hours,_" Zero thought. "_Twenty-four hours will decide the course of the war._"

"We must ensure that this plan is activated," he spoke up. "The one serious problem with this plan is the presence of Schneizel himself. While he is free to give orders, the Britannians will be able to react quickly and effectively. To complete our objectives here, we must attack Schneizel directly."

"I concur," replied Tohdoh. "The Rounds are under his command in this theatre. An attack on him would tie them up also."

"Which Rounds?" Kallen asked.

"As far as we know," Diethard checked his papers again, "Gino Weinberg, Anya Earlstreim, Aramis Custer, and Luciano Bradley, along with Suzaku Kururugi and ASEEC, now known as Camelot."

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"Four Rounds, and one good enough to be a Round," Ougi sighed.

"Three, actually," Diethard interjected. "Bradley seems to be moving around on his own a lot."

"Who cares!" Tamaki exclaimed, spreading his arms. "We can take 'em!" We did in China! We've got Tohdoh and Kallen, Rolo, and what's more, we've got me!" He grinned. No one else did.

"It would help if we actually had our knightmares," Ougi went on sourly. After a brief pause, he looked straight at Zero, his brow furrowed.

"Don't…don't tell me…"

"Yes," Zero smirked under his mask. "_Guren_¸ _Zangetsu, Vincent, Shinkiro, _and six _Akatsuki_s are waiting for us in Brussels."

"I won't ask how you managed to arrange it," Tohdoh gave him _that_ look. "But I will ask what you have in mind. Attacking Schneizel directly would be risky, especially at his base in Arras."

At that, Tohdoh brought up a map of the Arras region, centring on a large Britannian military base, where Schneizel was known to be operating from.

"We don't have many details on the base, other than its position and size. The size indicates four Rapid Assault Battlegroups, each with one _Logres_, based on previous Britannian practice." Tohdoh looked straight at Zero again. "You see my point."

"We are going to Arras," Zero admitted, readying himself. "But not to attack Schneizel's base. Our target will instead be this person." He pressed a button on his panel, and the image was replaced by a hologram of an adolescent male, with curly brown hair tied in a queue at the back, blue eyes and a finely-shaped face.

"Prince Faramond u Britannia, son of Crown Prince Odysseus. We're going to kidnap him." There was a pause as they took this in.

"What a cutie-pie," Kaguya sighed, understanding why her beloved cousin Tomoyo was so fond of him.

"The Lolicon Prince has a kid!" Tamaki exclaimed, half-laughing. "Who'd have thought!"

"Kidnap him?" Tohdoh gave Zero that look again. "Wouldn't he be in the base?"

"The French resistance provided us with a time-and-motion study," Zero replied, trying not to sound smug. "Care of an old colleague of yours, Ougi. Jiro Yamada." Ougi nodded.

"Oh yeah, Yamada," Tamaki mused, remembering. "I was wondering what happened to him."

Jiro Yamada had been an old ally of Naoto Kozuki, sent to Europe to build support networks for the Japanese resistance. Yamada had remained there throughout the seven-year-long occupation, and when Britannia began its invasion of Europe, he had apparently started using his experience and resources to assist resistance groups in the occupied countries. Zero had been impressed to discover this, along with the extent of his success. It was proof that Naoto was more than just a gang leader. It showed him that Kallen's pride in her late brother was more than justified.

He had also wondered how much of a debt he owed Yamada. One of Yamada's major challenges was to overcome negative prejudices towards Japan, which had been fuelled by Genbu Kururugi's foreign policy. He and his fellows, along with Masakado Daidouji and the Government-in-exile, had gradually changed European attitudes, convinced a few more people every day, made them _see_ the Japanese. Zero suspected that this success had fed into his own. The crowds at Strelsau International seemed proof of that.

"This study strongly implies," he said, returning to the subject, "that Faramond is living off-base, most likely here." He touched another button, bringing back the map, this time centring on a point a few miles from the base. "The intelligence showed cars coming to and from this Chateau on a regular basis. If he's anywhere, he's there."

"I'm not convinced of that," Tohdoh pressed his point, to Zero's mild surprise. "He would be far safer in the base." The four members of his Holy Swords nodded in agreement. There was tension in the air.

"He would be safer in terms of direct attack," Zero allowed. "But it is also the first place anyone out to get him would think of looking. What's more, if the negotiations were to break down, that particular base will be a priority target."

In sharp contrast to Britannia's focus on chivalry and personal combat, the EU tended to prefer a ranged battle. Experts disagreed on precisely how great an advantage the EU had in missile-related technologies, but the general consensus fell within a five to ten year band. Britannia's ground-based defences were significantly less sophisticated than those of the EU. They attracted far less funding because they did not fit with Britannia's chivalric ideals. Besides, it was assumed that air strikes and airborne knightmare insertions could knock out the launchers before they could do too much damage. The defences at the base were focussed on last-minute, or _Terminal Phase_, interception. Even if they managed an 80% interception rate, which was a stretch from what Zero had seen, the base would likely be destroyed within minutes. Even one missile getting through would be a disaster.

Schneizel could stay on the base. He could show the troops that he was not afraid, that he was willing to share the danger. The base's communication assets would allow him to negotiate with Brussels while keeping up with events back home. But keeping his nephew there was neither necessary nor wise.

Tohdoh's face betrayed nothing, but he nodded in assent. Situation contained.

"Ougi," Zero decided to continue. "I need you to make contact with Yamada once we arrive in Brussels. We'll need the help of his French resistance contacts." Ougi nodded in agreement.

"As for the rest of you," Zero went on, "there are diplomatic suites booked for our entire party at the Hotel Excelsior. I'll be meeting with the President as soon as we arrive, to arrange to address the Central Hemicycle. Once you're settled, enjoy yourselves." Zero paused, taking in their blank looks.

"I mean it," he said, in a soothing tone. "Relax, take a swim, have a few drinks. Aside from Ougi, there's not much you can be doing until I've made the arrangements. Also, it'll allay the suspicions of…well…anyone who happens to be watching us."

"All right!" Tamaki was enthused. "We can live it up for tonight! Maybe catch the _Angelic Layer_ tournament!"

"This will be your last chance to get some rest," Zero insisted. "As soon as we arrange things with Yamada, Plan Sekigahara will go into effect. After that, there'll be no turning back."

_**

* * *

**_

_**Zenda, Ruritania, EU, July 1st 2018 ATB **_

Alone in his office, Magnus found his mind wandering.

He returned to Zenda Castle the night before, as soon as he could politely escape from the soiree. He had been glad to see Lukas again, and less glad to be manoeuvred into dancing with Akiko Kobayashi. He had done so, with as much grace as he could muster, only to end up alone with her, with no option but to make conversation. It was, to say the least, awkward.

"_Do you still hate me?"_

"_No," Magnus replied, with little hesitation. "I never hated you."_

"_Yet you avoid me for all these years," Akiko's tone contained just a hint of accusation. "Were the battles so hard, that you had no time for your old friends?"_

"_None of us had much time. Britannia is relentless."_

"_I know." Akiko smiled, but her eyes were full of sadness. "Even so, I still wanted to see you, even if it was just for a moment."_

"_Why is that?"_

"_Because," she paused. "When we were young, you acted like a machine most of the time, like you do now. But once, just once, I saw you smile."_

"_I don't remember it."_

"_I do," there was a sparkle in her eyes for just a moment. "I've never forgotten. I just wanted to see you smile again, but nothing anyone does ever works. You'll do anything other than smile."_

"_I honestly don't know how."_

"_I know you don't," Akiko's smile faded. "Because of the Quiescence. The drug that won't let you smile."_

"_I cannot afford emotions," Magnus replied, somewhat more forcefully than he intended. "They get in the way."_

"_But other soldiers do," Akiko retorted, face lowered to hide her eyes. "They don't all shut out their feelings as you do." Magnus could not think of anything to say. _

"_It hurts Lukas, you know," she went on. "It hurts him, to see you like this, but be unable to help you."_

"_There's nothing he or anyone else can do," Magnus insisted, as he had done so many times before. "There's no point in him getting upset."_

"_But he does," Akiko said. "He's a Doctor, but he can't help you. It hurts him, don't you see it? It hurts him that he can't help you." _

He had never understood why Akiko took such an interest in him, or why. Feelings were, for the most part, beyond him. All thanks to _Quiescence_.

It was never intended to exist, though in pharmaceutical research that was nothing unusual. It was an unintended by-product of the research that created _Libidinax_, the ultimate in libido-suppressants.

Libidinax was a pharmaceutical masterpiece in its own right. By countering certain hormones and chemical reactions, Libidinax effectively shut down the user's sex drive. It was quickly put into use on sex offenders, where it crowded out existing 'chemical castration' treatments due to its lack of harmful side-effects, and recidivism rates plummeted. It was lauded as _the drug that killed sex crime_, and it furnished the consortium that created it with record profits. It was also used by military forces, allowing men and women to serve on equal terms without the inherent complications.

But when the consortium was do its market research, it discovered something unexpected. It found out, after collating the recorded experiences of users, that there was indeed a side effect, at least in some cases. The effect was a certain dulling of emotional sensitivity. This was enough for the consortium's researchers to go over their previous formulae, wondering what could have caused it. Another year of intense research led to a breakthrough, after which the formula was altered to enhance this effect. The result was a new drug, one that not only shut down the libido, but significantly reduced _all_ emotion.

Quiescence was born.

The new drug had many uses, like its parent. It was generally used to help those suffering from emotional or psychological trauma, allowing them to regain control. And like its parent, Quiescence was completely predictable in its effects. As such, so long as the dosage was controlled, addiction was generally avoidable.

It was the effect, not the drug, that was addictive.

For anyone who found life a little hard to take, who found themselves feeling sad for no worthwhile reason, who found depression or unwarranted anger to be disruptive to their lives, Quiescence was a constant temptation. They did not have to feel sadness or anger any more. They could just get on with their lives.

So it had been with an albino infant plucked from the ruins of a Romanian city, in the year 1994 ATB, or 1939 AD of the old Gregorian calendar.

It was not so hard to understand. The EU's economy was stretched to breaking point trying to repair the damage, and ensuring that a defeated and resentful Russia did not suffer a total collapse. The Juvenile Care Facilities were underfunded, their staff overworked and underpaid. Quiescence must have seemed the only answer after a while, both for staff and children.

So it had been for the first five years of his life, until the facility had been visited by members of the Lyceum Foundation, a wealthy and influential charity devoted to the cultivation of exceptional individuals. They had tested the orphans, deducing their capabilities from a patented series of aptitude tests.

They had taken an interest in the little albino boy. He remembered how they had paid him more attention than the others. They looked at him and talked about him more, and even talked to him.

And they had taken him. Just like that.

He hadn't minded much. Within a few days he was in a new place, which he learned was called the Colasour Institute, just outside of Vienna. There were lots of interesting books to read, and plenty of things to learn. He learnt about music, and art, and history, and so many other things, none of which he had known existed before. Within a year, he had become something more, so much more, than he had been in the JCF.

And he had made a friend.

He hadn't seen that one coming. He didn't bother much with the other children, and they had little time for him. They thought he was _strange,_ because he never smiled or cried. He never joined in their games, because he never got anything out of them. They seemed to get so excited, so worked up, but he never did.

It had happened one day when it was snowing. He had been sitting by the window, looking out at the snow-covered land, fascinated by the sight.

"_What're you doing here all by yourself?" _

_Magnus looked up, surprised, to see the new boy standing there, a look of amused curiosity on his face. _

"_I was watching the snow." _

"_Were you?" Lukas Gunner padded over to the window and looked out at the pristine landscape. He stared at it for a little while, seemingly entranced by it. _

"_Do you like it?"_

"_I…don't know." Magnus did not understand the question. He could never be quite sure what people meant by words like 'like', or 'love', or 'adore'. _

"_I think you do," Lukas insisted. "Or you wouldn't be looking at it."_

"_It…makes me feel…nice."_

"_That means you like it," Lukas held out a hand. "Come and play!"_

"_I…don't know how."_

"_You don't?" Lukas cocked his head in surprise. "That won't do. We'll teach you!" He grinned again. Magnus wanted to say no, but there was something in Lukas' eyes that wouldn't let him. It made him feel something he had never felt before. _

_Lukas took his hand, and led him inside. _

Nothing had been the same since. Lukas became his first friend, and his only one for a while. But when the other children realised what was going on, they began to warm up to him. They weren't so hostile any more. They didn't mind if they were doing something together and Lukas brought him along. Lukas didn't seem to mind that he was never very happy, and never very sad. And after a while, neither did they.

Magnus felt himself shudder as a darker memory floated into his mind.

He had been eight years old, spending a glorious summer with Lukas and his family. He remembered how he had been excited, enjoying himself even, before he remembered to take his dosage, and the wonderful feeling disappeared. It had upset Lukas, made him worry, so he had decided to try going without it.

He remembered how much fun they had, playing in the leafy garden of the Gunner home. He remembered the joy welling up inside him, making him feel as if he would sprout wings and fly. But then the joy faded, replaced by a strange, drained feeling. Then he had burst into tears.

He still didn't understand _why_ it had happened. All he remembered was sobbing into a bewildered Lukas' shoulder. It had felt so horrible, so unbearable, that he had never gone without his dose since. Even at the Academy and during the war, he had managed to maintain his supply of Quiescence. It had been especially important to maintain equilibrium in those times. He could not afford to have an emotional breakdown in battle, or when there were other duties to perform.

Magnus could not shake the niggling feeling that he owed a little more to Quiescence than was entirely proper. He had become famous for his courage in battle, his ability to lead his troops and keep them in order under the most desperate conditions. It had contributed to his rapid rise, and his fame. But to what extent was that down to the drug? Was it only because of the drug that he could keep his head? Was it only because of the emotionless equilibrium the drug induced? Was he really just a fraud?

A terrible feeling of depression came over him. He knew he had left his dose late, but he could not bring himself to take it. There was still a question he had left to answer.

"_What am I to do?_"

Should he join the conspiracy within EUROFORCE and EUROSEC to continue the war? Or should he simply stay where he was? It had to be the most important decision of his life, and yet he had no basis on which to decide.

Britannia was the enemy. It had destroyed countless lives as it rampaged across the world, and now it threatened Europe. It had to be stopped. But now it was offering peace, offering to leave Europe and not come back, if Europe would just stop interfering.

Magnus knew that few if any things were more terrible than war. No one knew that better than a soldier. Did he have any right to make the war continue?

Normally he was good at making decisions. There hadn't been any problems while he was in battle. What had to be done was obvious, and so he did it. But now…

"_What does your heart tell you?_"

That was what they said, what they _always_ said. But how could he, when he didn't have a heart?

Would it matter if he did nothing? If there was peace? It would not affect his life, at least not directly. He would still be in EUROFORCE, Lukas and Akiko would still be working for EUROMED. The EU, and Europe, would still be there.

They would still be there, in a world dominated by Britannia. A world in which the weak were culled from the herd.

In the Age of the Dictators, they had said something similar. For some of them, the 'weak' were those whose bodies were imperfect, or whose minds were flawed. If they belonged to a racial minority, or had undesirable political or religious beliefs, they were 'weak'. Britannia was nothing like so consistent. Anyone who got in the way, for whatever reason, was simply 'weak', deserving nothing better than death. That was Britannia's excuse. He had seen it even on the battlefield, with whole battalions sacrificed as decoys. Was it said in dispatches that they were weak? Did the dreaded letter inform their loved ones that they had deserved to be killed? Or perhaps their death had been necessary for the success of the superior?

Could Lukas, with his damaged spine, survive in such a world? What about Akiko, who was, after all, only an _Eleven_ in the eyes of Britannia? A _Number_, fit only for servitude, who ought to be grateful if decent, hard-working, productive Britannians deigned to toss her a scrap of food.

Magnus stood up and headed for his desk. As he sat down, he tapped at his computer screen, sending a communication request to someone he knew well. Within a few minutes, there was a response.

"Colonel." The familiar face of General Ichijo Morisato appeared on the screen before him.

"Good news, Lieutenant Colonel," Magnus said, forcing himself to remain calm. "The _Adler_ will be ready for trials in two days."

"That is excellent news, Colonel," Morisato actually sounded pleased.

"Be sure to tell the men," Magnus went on. "I will need their help for the trials. She will have to be tested with a full load." There was a pause. Magnus stared into the digitally-replicated eyes of his subordinate, once his rival, always his comrade. He could not be sure if the message had gotten across, but he _had_ to try.

"They will be pleased, Colonel," Morisato bowed his head. "I will tell them at once."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel Morisato." He switched off the link, pulled the ampoule from his pocket, bared his arm, and injected. Even as wondrous calm flooded through him, the enormity of what he had done remained.

He was committed now. He had sent the word, and it had been received. He knew Morisato well enough to know that. There could be no backing out now.

_**

* * *

**__**Brussels, Capital of Belgium, EU, July 1st 2018 ATB**_

Zero could not help but feel a thrill as he sat in the spacious office.

As a boy of ten, he had stood before the throne of the Britannian Emperor. Only a month ago, he had stood before the Empress of China, before helping to free her from a nightmare marriage and save her country.

Now, he sat in the office of the President of the Council of Ministers, which was the closest equivalent in the EU.

The difference was plain, not just in where he was, but also in the manner of their meeting. He did not stand before the President at his desk like a supplicant. Instead they sat opposite each other on deep and very comfortable sofas. Sunlight beamed in from the tall windows, providing ample light without causing discomfort. It all seemed calculated to put him at his ease. Zero reckoned he knew the reason why.

He sipped his tea, through the convenient mouth hole he had added to the mask before the soiree, as he looked back at the President. Richard Dressler was a trim man in his mid-fifties, with greying hair and narrow eyes. He seemed friendly enough, but Zero did not completely drop his guard. From what he had been able to read up on Dressler's background, he was not a man to be underestimated. No one who made it anywhere in the EU's byzantine hierarchy could be.

"I have to say we were most relieved to hear of your success in China," Dressler enthused. "We knew the Eunuchs would sell their own Empress for ten Euros and a plate of Peking duck, but we never thought they'd sell their country along with it."

"We were fairly surprised ourselves," Zero replied, his tone easy. "We were also surprised that Britannia would seek peace." He lowered his teacup. "You have to admit, it's not their usual style."

"Indeed it isn't," Dressler agreed, apparently unruffled. "We supposed it was due to your own successes. Apparently sakuradite is running short in Britannia these days."

"So my sources claim." Zero sipped again. "But I must confess to a certain curiosity."

"Of course," Dressler smiled. "Were we to continue the war, we could theoretically push the Britannians out of Europe. It would cost us dearly, and removing them from Africa on top of that will cost even more, with little hope of success. Prince Schneizel, on the other hand, offers a comprehensive peace treaty and withdrawal from Europe and Russia, so long as we leave Britannia their possessions in Africa. You can surely see the temptations of this prospect."

"And surely you can see," Zero retorted, as politely as he could manage, "the problem this creates for Japan. I must say that without the sacrifices made by the peoples of Europe, our liberation would not have been possible. If they withdraw from the fight, Japan will be in terrible danger."

"A realistic concern," Dressler allowed. "But not an actual one. I have spent many weeks now in negotiations with Prince Schneizel, and I have been able to discern his underlying intentions. I am confident that Japan is in no danger."

"Respectfully, Mister President," Zero's glowering eyes were concealed behind his mask. "I find that hard to believe."

"Understandable, considering Britannia's record. But Prince Schneizel does not want peace so that he can dance around toadstools. He _needs_ peace, because unlike so many of his countrymen he understands that Britannia cannot continue as it is. He needs peace so that he can return home as a conquering hero, giving him the political clout he needs to push through his reforms."

"_Reform? Britannia?_" Zero thought, barely suppressing a snort of derision. "_Impossible!_"

But was it?

Schneizel was sublimely clever, but anyone with an education and a drop of common sense could see that Britannia needed to change. Then again, if anyone had it in them to make Britannia change, it was Schneizel el Britannia.

What was more, this sounded like the sort of scheme he preferred. Cornelia was far better at actually fighting wars, but Schneizel was able to see the big picture. His weapons were subtle threats and back-room deals, and they often proved more effective than any number of knightmare frames. He might not be so good at fighting, but he knew how and when to fight, and just as importantly when _not_ to fight.

He was also, Zero knew, capable of ice-cold ruthlessness. Santiago was proof of that. A million men had marched into hell at his command, all to prove to the EU that its mightiest defences could not protect them. It had been a dangerous gamble, risking everything on the hope that the EU would loose heart if Santiago fell. Britannia had already suffered appalling losses in Russia and Africa, so such an operation could not be repeated any time soon.

But Schneizel's methods had worked. Portugal and Spain had capitulated almost immediately. Russia, a country that had cost Britannia millions of dead and wounded, was talked neatly into his pocket. France proved more stubborn, so Schneizel had allowed his Generals to break out the gas and the napalm. When the French government saw the casualty figures, and realised just what it was up against, it threw in the towel, and the EU had seemingly little choice but to talk.

He knew Schneizel, or at least he thought he did. There had been no indication of it when they were together. He would never have believed that his kind and generous older brother, who always found time to play chess with him, was capable of such acts. Was Britannia in such dire straits that he would resort to anything in order to save it? Was it a declaration of his resolve, to Britannia _and_ the world?

"I find it hard to believe," he said, choosing his words carefully. "That Britannia could be in such danger that even you would seek to assist him."

"You must understand, your Excellency," Dressler's countenance darkened. "We simply cannot allow an entity such as Britannia to collapse. If Prince Schneizel is unable to bring about the necessary reforms, then economic collapse could destroy Britannia's entire political system. It could even threaten the monarchy. Even if it does not, it would unleash political and social forces beyond anyone's capacity to control. Who do you suppose, your Excellency, would step into the gap?"

"The Nativists are powerful in the Senate," Zero replied, as he tried to process Dressler's logic. "They also have strong support in the Colonial Security Forces and some powerful corporate backers."

"An astute choice," Dressler mused. "And if you knew anything about them, you would know why we cannot allow them to take control of Britannia."

"I'm afraid I am unfamiliar with them," Zero admitted. He had not bothered to follow Senate politics too closely, focussing his attentions instead on the Imperial Family. It was an oversight he was beginning to regret.

"A pack of bloodthirsty racist know-nothings," Dressler replied coldly. "They believe that Britannia must not endure even the smallest insult or defiance. This makes them the equivalent of the schoolyard bully who beats someone to a pulp for giving him a sideways look. They also believe that anything and anyone that does not fit their standard of 'Britannian' is dangerous and must be shunned. At present, Britannia merely exploits the people it conquers. The Nativists would probably exterminate them."

"Impossible!" Zero blurted out, genuinely shocked. "That's two-hundred million people in South America alone! How will they maintain the economy without the cheap labour! How will they find people willing to do it!"

"I never said it was a practical scheme," Dressler gave him an indulgent smile. "But that won't stop them trying. Bearing in mind that they have several million CSF troops at their disposal, they'll do a fair bit of damage. And back here in Europe, the Human Rights crowd will blame _us_ for allowing it to happen."

"You would not be in a position to stop it."

"Try telling _them _that." Dressler gave a rueful chuckle. "So you can see, better the devil you know, as the saying goes."

"Mister President, I must ask a favour," Zero laid down his teacup on the low table. "I must ask to be allowed to address the Central Hemicycle as soon as possible. Please allow me to make Japan's case."

"I'm sure I can wrangle it," Dressler replied with a smile. "And it would be helpful. We included a clause in the treaty insisting that Japan's sovereignty be respected. If you were to address the delegates, then I believe they would rally behind it."

"I'm grateful, Mister President," and Zero meant it. "I imagine such a clause must be a sticking point."

"It is. Prince Schneizel is under a lot of pressure from the Senate, especially from the Nativists, to drive a hard bargain. We can probably get a deal soon by horse-trading on other issues, but some of the delegates are tempted to drop it for a quick settlement. I'm certain that you can convince them otherwise."

"Thank you, Mister President."

"_Why is he being so helpful?_" Zero wondered. "_Is it to keep me from getting in the way? Does he think he can buy me off like this!_" Anger surged through him. "_Does he think me some ingénue he can palm-off with kind words!_"

* * *

"Ahhhh," Kallen breathed, stepping out of the shower. She had really needed a hot shower, after spending the best part of the day on a train. Best of all, it had been an actual power shower, and a strong one at that. Her back hadn't felt so good in weeks.

"_I could really get used to this lifestyle_" she thought, as she dried herself off and slipped into a fluffy white bathrobe. The pleasant sensation lasted until she stepped into the bedroom, and was hit full in the face by the scent of pizza.

For there to be a silver lining, there had to be a cloud. Kallen's cloud in this case had long green hair, a sassy attitude, and the Satanically-inspired ability to consume pizza by the truckload without any noticeable effect on her skin or her figure.

"Honestly," Kallen groused. "Do you really eat pizza for every meal?"

"I do," CC replied, a long string of cheese hanging between her mouth and the slice in her hand. She lay sprawled on the other bed, which was already surrounded by empty pizza boxes. Kallen's side was comparatively tidy, since she had not really unpacked much. They weren't going to be staying long, so there didn't seem much point.

"There's no justice in this world," Kallen griped. "You stuff yourself with pizza yet you never get fat. You should be the size of a knightmare by now."

"This coming from you," CC smirked at her, "whose cologne is knightmare joint lubricant."

"And what," Kallen's eyes flashed "is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"What's more, you can't even be bothered to look after your hair," CC went on. "I don't know how you expect to keep Lelouch's attention."

"What makes you think I _want_ Lelouch's attention!" Kallen retorted, only half-truthfully. "It was just one night!"

"Just one night?" CC teased. "Dancing in a dream, in the arms of your love?"

"So what if I was!" Kallen snapped back. "Besides, it's not like you're interested in him anyway!"

"As I told you before," CC said, with exaggerated patience, "I prefer _contracts_. In a contract, you know exactly what you're getting, and you get it, no more, no less."

"And you have a _contract_ with Lelouch," Kallen mused. "For what, exactly?"

"That," CC gave her a coy look, "is between him and me."

"Oh," Kallen smirked. "So, it's just a contract between you and Lelouch?"

"Yes it is."

"Oh _really_," Kallen drawled. "You _really _don't mind."

"It's no concern of mine," CC replied, "if you want to sleep with him."

"WHAT!" Kallen shrieked. "I…I…AM…NOT…!"

"Miss Kallen Kozuki!" came a voice from behind the door, over the sound of knocking. "I have a special delivery for Miss Kallen Kozuki!"

"Hang on!" Kallen grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

"Uhh…"

"Miss Kallen Kozuki?" The embarrassed-looking bellboy was carrying what was unmistakeably a bouquet. Not just any bouquet, but a large and beautifully-wrapped one, evidently done by a professional florist. And it was for _her_.

"Yes." Kallen accepted the bouquet, too shocked to argue, managing to slip a coin into the bellboy's white-gloved hand.

"Roses?" CC wore her most infuriating, doll-like smile. "Is that a full dozen?"

"I…but who would…?" Kallen eventually managed to find the card.

_Dear Kallen_

_I want to apologise about the Soiree and the way I treated you. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight? At seven o'clock? I just want to make it up to you. _

_L_

Kallen's face turned the colour of her hair.

"_Lulu…_" she thought, her head spinning. "_Lulu…but there's nothing to…_"

"I have to say," CC spoke up. "I never expected Lelouch to actually make a romantic gesture. After all, he knows nothing of women."

"It's…well…kinda cliché," Kallen tried to regain her poise, and failed. "I mean, what is this, a _shoujo manga_? Who actually sends someone roses to ask them out?"

"Who indeed?"

"Everyone!" Kallen felt her heart skip a beat as Kaguya bounced in through the open door. "Are…" There was pause. A very awkward pause, that felt like an eternity. Kallen wasn't entirely sure that her heart was still beating.

"Oh _my_!" Kaguya's eyes swelled to the size of plates. "What_ have_ we _here_!"

"I…" Kallen flinched, trying to hide the roses. "They're…"

"Are they from…_Lelouch_?" the younger girl teased, cocking her head and looking sideways up at her. "Is he asking you out on a…_date_?"

"He…wants to have dinner…with me," Kallen managed to reply.

"And you'll go of course!"

"I…I haven't decided yet!"

"But you _must_ go!" Kaguya insisted. "Two dates in as many nights! If that's not a good sign I don't know what is!"

"You might as well go," CC commented airily. "You'll never get another chance like this."

"Exactly!" Kaguya nodded enthusiastically. "And it's," she glanced at her watch, "four o'clock! We only have _three_ hours to get you ready!"

"Well…I guess it wouldn't hurt," Kallen mused. "After all it's only…_ano_?" She watched in bewilderment as Kaguya rummaged through her suitcase.

"We need this and this and this…wow, this is nice…and this and this, but for the dress…" she rummaged some more. "Perfect!" She spun around, her arms full of assorted garments, and ran up behind Kallen. "Come on! Three hours and counting! And we can't get you ready in this pigsty!"

"Hey! Wait a minute!" Kallen protested as Kaguya pushed her through the open door and into the corridor.

CC thought of calling after them, then decided against it.

"I don't know what you mean" she said, to someone who wasn't there. "I think it's rather cute, don't you?

**

* * *

****(Done at last! Sorry it took so long, my work got in the way, **_**again**_**. Even so, I like the way it came out. I'm sorry if this fic is starting to drag a bit, but the real action will start soon. Alas, you'll have to wait until next chapter for Lelouch and Kallen's exciting date, but to make up for it I'll make it a good one!)**

**Retcon**

**- I found out recently from the Light Novels that the Black Rebellion took place in December 2017. As such, Japan was liberated in January of 2018, with the Tianzi arc happening shortly after that. My excuse is that Schneizel brought the plan forward on account of the Rebellion. **


	12. The Alacrity of Treachery

**Chapter Twelve: The Alacrity of Treachery**

_**Now**_

_**Residence Palace, Brussels, EU, July 2018 ATB**_

"So," President Richard Dressler scanned his eyes around the people seated in his office. "They've made contact."

"Confirmed." Joseph Rico, Commissar-General of EUROARMPOL, slid a photograph across Dressler's desk. "This shows one of Zero's associates, a certain Ougi Kaname, talking with Jiro Yamada. It was taken a few hours ago."

"So he's cooperating with the Maquis" Manuel Lacroix, leader of the Pacifist caucus in the Central Hemicycle, spoke up. "He's obviously trying to disrupt the peace process. We should arrest them all immediately."

"If we do that," snorted Elek Kacynski, the Minister for Electoral Affairs, "it'll lead to uproar. Our research shows a 15% shift away from peace after Zero arrived. He's having a significant effect on public opinion."

"Why was he even allowed to enter!" Lacroix snapped back. "We knew this would happen!"

"The Elphbergs outmanoeuvred us," Dressler replied levelly. "It's too late to do anything about it now. What matters is ensuring that the negotiations are concluded quickly."

"That's getting harder all the time," Kacynski opened his dossier. "We barely had a popular mandate for peace _before_ he arrived, and what we have is slipping away by the hour. At this rate, peace with Britannia will be in defiance of the popular will."

"That _cannot_ be!" Lacroix protested. "The people _cannot_ want more war, not after everything that's happened. I cannot accept it!"

"That's what the opinion polls say," Kacynski retorted condescendingly. "Or is it only the popular will if it says what you want it to say?"

"Mister President!" Lacroix turned to Dressler, seeking his support.

"What Minister Kacynski says is true," the President said, after a brief pause. "Minister Prichard, what is your department's estimation of the situation?"

"We have examined the situation using the best available intelligence," replied Eloise Pritchard, representing the Ministry for Strategic Affairs. "I'm afraid we must confirm what Prince Schneizel confided to you, mister President. If the fighting continues, it will take Britannia at least another two years to decisively defeat us, assuming things mostly go their way. At current rates, compared to known stockpiles and observable rates of extraction, processing, and transport over the past eight years, we have concluded that Britannia's sakuradite reserve will be expended in the space of one to two years. Without immediate austerity measures, such as those Prince Schneizel has described, we can expect Britannia's economy to shrink drastically over the next ten years, primarily due to infrastructure degradation and resultant issues. If the most crucial measures are implemented, then he stands a fighting chance, so long as he maintains control."

"And he can't even get that far if the negotiations break down," Kacynski spoke up. "If public opinion moves further away from peace, more Representatives will withdraw themselves and some may go over to Gandolfy's War party."

"I have explained the situation to Prince Schneizel," Dressler replied, "and he has made a new offer that may be more palatable. He offers to dismantle Britannia's presence in Africa in stages over twenty years. In return, we must reduce our entire military capability to 50% of its current strength, disband EUROFORCE and EUROSEC, sign a pledge never to recreate those organisations in any shape or form, and turn over all of our latest weapons, along with all relevant technical information." He fell silent, awaiting their response.

"Those are harsh terms," Prichard replied, her face wooden.

"They have to be," Dressler explained. "Africa is too expensive in the short term for Britannia to colonize, but withdrawal would be unpopular. If he can give the illusion of having broken us forever, then he might be able to get away with it."

"An illusion indeed," Garin Fischer, the Minister for Economic Affairs, commented. "There's no way they can keep up their current military spending. They'll be in the same boat no matter the outcome."

"True," Prichard admitted. "Nonetheless I feel I must warn you mister President. EUROFORCE and EUROSEC won't take this lying down."

"We can't let ourselves be intimidated by them!" LaCroix interjected again. "Their very existence is an affront to democracy and national sovereignty! It's about time they were brought to heel!"

"Once the treaty is signed, they won't be able to do anything," Dressler said, his tone soothing. "We need only keep them in check until then." He glanced around the office, the assembled Ministers staring back at him. If anyone objected, they didn't say so aloud.

The meeting broke up, and all left except Dressler and Rico.

"I think," Dressler began, "we might just pull this off."

"You've almost certainly lost Pritchard," Rico replied coldly. "But it's probably too late to worry about something like that."

"Gandolfy was a far greater loss, but we got this far," Dressler retorted pointedly, trying not to remember the circumstances of their parting. "The best you can do for now is to make sure EUROFORCE cooperates. Do you have the names?"

"We have names, but not enough evidence. I suspect that Colonel Constantian may have pledged his support to their plot."

"Constantian," Dressler growled. "The one the Britannians call _Death Spectre_. Funny you should mention him."

"Why is that?"

"Because it was another condition, which I decided not to mention to the others," Dressler went on. "The Britannians want him. They didn't give a reason, but they want him. Alive."

"Propaganda most likely," Rico commented. "I imagine there's a great many well-connected Britannians baying for his blood. But I can't just arrest him without evidence."

"Don't worry." To Rico's surprise, Dressler actually smiled. "I have the evidence, care of Zero himself. I have to say he's quite the acrobat."

"You spoke with the terrorist!" There was a distinctive hiss to Rico's tone.

"You're in no position to be picky," Dressler snarled. "Zero has provided comprehensive evidence against Constantian." He slid another dossier across the desk. "His only price is that we allow him to interview Constantian in private before we transfer him to Britannian custody. After which he will provide us with additional information." Rico opened the dossier and flicked through it, his dark eyes darting back and forth across the pages.

"It won't stand up in Court," he commented. "Guilt by Association generally doesn't. At best I can hold him on suspicion for forty-eight hours without charge. The rest, mister President, is up to you."

"You need not worry about that, Commissar-General. But we also need to ensure that all the necessary hardware is ready for inspection by the Prince's staff, so that they can pick their fancy. The selection will of course include the _Adler_."

"That…" Rico's face was carefully expressionless, "could prove a problem. Constantian is overseeing the project. If we make a move against him, he'll almost certainly guess your intentions and warn them."

"I sincerely doubt that EUROFORCE personnel would fire on your Gendarmes," Dressler replied patiently. "We haven't quite reached that point. But we still need to defang this conspiracy before it gets any further out of hand." Dressler took a sheet of paper from his dossier and handed it to Rico. "This is your warrant. Do what must be done." Rico took the warrant, saluted, and left the office.

_**

* * *

**__**City Centre, Brussels, July 1st 2018 ATB**_

"_CC, this is your doing!_" Lelouch seethed. "_You did this deliberately!_"

He had intended to take Kallen out in order to apologise. He remembered how she had taken it when he all but _ordered_ her to attend the Soiree as his date. He had, after a while, come to understand that he had quite seriously hurt her feelings. She seemed to have gotten over it, but he could not shake a sense of _obligation._ He had felt as though he should do something, encouraged by the simple but even more bewildering fact that he enjoyed her company. He had meant as a purely professional gesture, a restitution of sorts.

Unfortunately, he had trusted CC and Sayoko to sort everything out. The result was that upon returning to the Hotel Excelsior, he had found a glowing Kallen, herself the recent recipient of a dozen red roses, with a table for two booked at _La Belle Madelon_, probably the most expensive restaurant in Brussels, and also the most discreet.

"_Red roses! That woman! She's playing with me again! How can I get out of this!"_

Kallen was still glowing, or so Lelouch thought. Her dress was pink, a shade close to her gown from the Soiree, knee-length with spaghetti straps. She wore some of the silver jewellery too, and her face was delicately painted. They sat in a booth, one of several set into one of the walls of the restaurant. The lights were turned down low, giving a sense of intimacy and privacy. Romantic piano music tinkled away in the background. Everything seemed perfectly calculated to give Kallen the wrong idea.

"_Be careful!"_ His thoughts were racing. "_Keep the conversation conventional and she won't get the wrong idea!_"

The food, at least, was good. It came in small, artistically-arranged portions, unaffected by wartime shortages. The skill of its making was enough to tickle his extremely demanding palate.

"You never told me," he said, conversationally. "How did you get involved anyway?"

"Involved?"

"In the resistance." Kallen paused a moment.

"It was mostly because of my brother Naoto. He started the old group, and I wanted to join but he wouldn't let me."

"He wouldn't?"

"I was only ten," Kallen admitted. "I don't think I would've been very useful, but I didn't see it that way. I guess I just wanted to be with him."

"What was he like?"

"He was…complicated." Kallen paused again as the memories arose. "He had a rough time before I was born, and when I was very little. He didn't fit in with the other kids." Her lip curled slightly, and a hint of anger slipped into her tone. "They used to call him a _half-breed_."

"I see," Lelouch's interest was aroused.

"He was really angry and bitter most of the time." The anger was replaced with sadness. "He never took it out on me, but I couldn't understand what his problem was. Nothing like that ever happened to me."

"Maybe the climate changed," Lelouch replied. "Socially I mean."

"Probably," Kallen agreed. "But he was always a great brother to me. After the invasion I got stuck with my father, and I desperately wanted to see him again."

"So when did you join?"

"When I was fifteen," Kallen went on. "I wanted to join sooner, but Naoto wouldn't allow it. They managed to get a _Glasgow_, and they let me try it. I could handle it better than anyone else, so Naoto had me train on it while everyone else was on missions."

"I'm not surprised," Lelouch smiled. "You were always an excellent pilot."

"I wanted to get good," Kallen insisted, suddenly serious. "After he died, all I did was train. I just…" She trailed off. Lelouch felt a pang of concern.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, no it's okay," Kallen dabbed at her eye with a handkerchief. "It's not as bad as it was."

"Even so…"

"No, seriously." Kallen seemed to recover. "I'm the one who should apologise. It's been such a nice night, and here I am getting all weepy."

"No, it's my fault," Lelouch insisted. "For what it's worth, I know what it's like to loose someone."

"Who was it?" There was no force or insistence in Kallen's tone, just a genuine curiosity. Lelouch faltered. He had not intended to mention that. On the other hand, it gave him an opportunity to allay some of her suspicions.

"My mother," he said. Fortunately he had thought to plan his 'past' beforehand.

"Oh." Kallen looked surprised. "What happened?"

"She was murdered," Lelouch said, feeling the familiar darkness in his heart. "I don't know by whom."

"I see," Kallen replied, her tone grave. "And your sister?"

"She was crippled." To Lelouch's surprise, he found he _wanted_ to tell her.

"That's why you were so protective of her, isn't it?"

"It's all I can do," Lelouch admitted, lowering his eyes as he forced back the tears. "I couldn't protect her, and she can't defend herself." He looked up, and saw Kallen looking back at him with concern and sympathy.

"I never knew," she said, and he could see her sincerity. "The other girls used to joke about it, like you were going to marry her or something."

"They can make fun of me all they want," Lelouch replied, his lip curling slightly. "I don't care."

"I always liked how you took care of her," Kallen said gently. "It reminded me of Naoto, the way he took care of me."

Lelouch stared into her eyes, as the flash of irritation faded away. He had never believed that he might feel the way he felt there and then. To believe that someone might understand, that _she_ might understand.

"Kallen, there's something I have to tell you." Kallen started at this, visibly shocked.

"L…Lelouch," she gave him a sideways look, blushing in surprise. "I…"

"Kallen, it's not what you think." He couldn't let this get any further out of hand. "I didn't mean this to be a date. I…I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done." He paused, readying to force out the rest of his words.

"I…just wanted to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the way I treated you over the Soiree. I shouldn't have just ordered you like that."

"Lelouch…" Kallen was stunned. "Lelouch…it's…it's nothing to get upset about."

"Even so…"

"Lelouch, I'm not going to bite your head off," Kallen chuckled. "I thought CC might be messing us around, but I don't care. Not after I got to have dinner in a place like this," she gestured around them.

"It's just that you seemed so offended." Lelouch sounded bewildered, and he was, for he had lost the initiative. "I heard you thump the wall."

"Okay, I was angry at the time, but I'm not bitter" Kallen insisted, eyes sparkling. "Of course, I could get stroppy, yell that you don't understand a maiden's feelings, and slap you if you'd prefer."

"No, no, it's fine." That was an understatement. He was about to speak again, until a vibration below distracted him. Lelouch pulled out his phone, checked the caller ID, and flicked it open.

"Yes? I see…that's fine…tell them to keep it there for now…yes…good. We'll be along later." He flicked the phone shut.

"And that was?"

"Sayoko," Lelouch kept his voice low. _La Belle Madelon_ was known to be reliable when it came to such matters, and he had checked the table for bugs himself, but there was no sense in taking pushing his luck. "The second package has arrived. We're all set for tomorrow."

"Second package?" Kallen cocked her head. "What's that?"

"That's for me to know," Lelouch grinned slyly, "and you to find out later."

"Well if you're going to keep secrets from me," Kallen pouted, "you could at least order more wine."

"Kallen, we've had a whole bottle already." Lelouch's amusement was replaced with nervousness. He had never seen Kallen drunk, and they had a lot to do tomorrow.

"Don't be a wet blanket!" Kallen retorted, smiling too much. "I'm finally in a country where I'm legal, so I'm not missing this chance."

Lelouch started wondering if he was going to get through the evening alive.

_**

* * *

**__**The next morning**_

_**EUROARMPOL Maximum Security Prison, northern Belgium, EU, July 2nd 2018 ATB**_

Magnus Constantian did not feel well.

He did not know why they had brought him to this particular prison. It seemed odd, considering that they had flown him there overnight. The only possible reason he could think of was that someone important wanted to interrogate him without travelling too far from Brussels.

So there he was, sitting on a chair in an interrogation room, feet manacled to the floor.

His uniform jacket had been taken, as had his boots, but he retained his trousers and shirt. They had searched him, and taken everything they found, including his ampoules of Quiescence_. _He suspected that this was the reason for his discomfort, for he had gone without his usual dose for well over twelve hours.

He supposed he knew what those unfamiliar emotions were called. Despair, frustration, anxiety. Them, and any bizarre combination of them, conspiring to suck him down, to render him passive and unable to think or act.

He had never valued Quiescence more in all his life than at that time. To be without it reaffirmed a decision he had made many years ago, the decision that had caused him to keep on taking the drug. Without it, he could not function. Without it, he could not live.

A clunk from the door drew his attention, dispelling the soporific. A grey-clad arm held the door open.

"Bang when you're done."

"Thank you."

The depression was gone as his visitor entered the room. A wave of shock had washed it away, followed on by something else. Something hot and malign, energizing him, grinding his teeth together. It was an emotion he understood, one he had experienced a great many times, even through the dulling of the drug.

_Anger_.

"I hope they have not treated you too badly," Zero said with apparent sincerity, sweeping his cloak aside to sit down opposite Magnus. "I asked that you be treated kindly."

"You asked?" The anger surged.

"A small favour of the President," Zero replied. "He wants to have you interrogated and handed over to the Britannians, but I convinced him to let me talk to you first."

"Really," Magnus' tone was as sour as his mood. "For what purpose?"

"To convince you to join me." There was a long pause.

"Join you!" Magnus was incredulous. "You seek my allegiance by stabbing me in the back? When we were already on the same side?"

"This was not the way I wanted us to meet," Zero insisted. "I understand your anger, but this was the only way. I'll make it up to you in time."

"Make it up to me?" Magnus' eyes flashed. "You would have me betray that which I fought for, and you would make it up to me?"

"The EU is not worth your loyalty!" Zero snapped. "It's nothing but a pack of self-serving bureaucrats who care nothing for the hopes and dreams of others!"

"If I had a Euro for every time I heard that," Magnus sneered, "I could buy the whole of Japan. I never took you for an ultranationalist."

"Do not misapprehend me," Zero went on. "I care nothing for nationalism. Instead answer me a question. What is the EU?"

"It is an economic and political union of states," Magnus replied. "These states have pooled their sovereignty and joined their economies together for the prosperity and peace of all."

"You say the words so coldly," Zero said. "Yet you have no idea of what they truly mean, of what the EU means to the world."

"And what does it mean?"

"You said so yourself!" Zero exclaimed, his voice almost aching with passion. "All those states, with all their history and quirks and animosities. That they should come together as they have is _totally unprecedented_! People said it would never work, that they could never give up their hatreds, or look past their suspicions and identities! And yet here is the European Ultra-Union, a superpower bestriding the world as Britannia does."

"Your point being?"

"Has the EU given its hand to Africa?" Zero went on. "To Asia? The EU has brought peace to the peoples of Europe, but it does nothing to bring peace to those beyond its borders!"

"And why should we?" Magnus retorted. "We have learned from bitter experience the limits of power. The world is too big for us to rule, and too big for us to save."

"Tell that to the people of Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, and Japan!" Zero barked. "They cried out for someone to save them, and the EU left them to be conquered! And what of the Africans you _failed _to protect!"

"We could not save them." Though he tried, Magnus could not keep regret from his tone. "No one could."

"I know you are better than this, Magnus Constantian," Zero managed to lower his tone. "I know your heart longs for a righteous cause. I know, because Akiko and Lukas told me so."

"Leave them out of this!" Magnus demanded. "They have nothing to do with this!"

"Oh but they do," Zero insisted. "They are close to you, so they had the information I needed. They were legitimate targets."

"Legitimate targets!" Magnus snarled, straining in frustration against his manacles. "You're just another terrorist! It doesn't matter what you destroy or who you kill so long as you get your way! I'd rather die than follow a man like you!"

"Still you do not understand!" Zero roared back, crashing one clenched fist down on the table. "It is _Quiescence_ that keeps you from understanding!" His mask slid open to reveal one eye. "_Never use Quiescence again_!"

Magnus would not remember the sight of a winged bird swooping towards him. He would not remember the feeling of having his brain refashioned by forces unknown. He would not remember the command planted within, a command that was beyond his power to disobey.

All he remembered was a sensation of déjà vu, as Zero placed a single ampoule of Quiescence on the table before him.

"Take it," he said.

But Magnus could not. He knew that he needed it. But his body would not move. He thought of taking it, and yet he did not.

"Don't you want it?" Zero cocked his head. "Here," he picked it up. "Let me inject it for you." He reached out his hand. Magnus' hand flew up of its own accord, slapping the proffered hand away. The ampoule smashed against the wall, the precious medicine dripping down to pool on the floor.

Magnus stared at Zero in stark terror, unable to make sense of it.

"What…" his hands clenched into fists, terror replaced with fury. "What have you _done_ to me!"

"I have saved you," Zero replied, his tone reasonable and almost kindly. "Now nothing can keep you from hearing the voice of your heart."

"Is this your new world!" Magnus snarled. "How many others have you _decided_ for! How many others have you _saved_! Did you do this to Syzmanowski!" Inside he was raging, fury and helplessness combining to fuel the inferno within.

"I will destroy the EU tomorrow," Zero continued, apparently unaffected. "But the ideals it represents will live on, in the United Federation of Nations." With a dramatic flourish, Zero held out his hand."

"Come with me, Magnus Constantian." His voice was strangely gentle. "Let Japan be your new home. Embrace a cause worthy of your noble heart. Take my hand, and be free."

Magnus stared up at him for a long time.

"You are a clown, Zero," he said, no longer angry, for the flame had burnt out to leave only cold fury. "You are an amusement, a bit player in a never-ending tragedy. You are Punch, the fool who was made King for a day, an honour only a fool would accept. And the greater fool is the fool who follows."

Zero did not reply. For a few moments there was only a bitter silence.

"If you can dream of anything, I suggest you dream of the stars," he said eventually, sounding sad. "You will not see them again."

"And your dreams will end in blood and fire," Magnus retorted grimly. "So it was with us, so it will be with you."

Zero turned, banged on the door, and was let out.

And Magnus was alone.

_**

* * *

**__**EUROFORCE military base, German Confederation, EU, July 2nd 2018 ATB**_

"Captain Kobayashi, you will explain yourself!"

Major Ishida fitted the stereotype of the Japanese army officer almost to a tee. His posture was stiff, almost statuesque, his uniform spotless and meticulously arranged. The rest of his face did not move, but his mouth twisted and flared as he shrieked anathema at whatever unfortunate subordinate had managed to annoy him.

This time it was Captain Takato Kobayashi. The younger man stood stock-still before his Colonel, eyes focussing straight ahead, face carefully expressionless. Behind him stood several of the Japanese Legion's officers, whose leisure time he had disturbed with the terrible news.

Actually Ishida was not _his_ Major strictly speaking. Both were officers in EUROFORCE's JL Brigade, but Takato Kobayashi was the Captain of White Tiger knightmare squadron, whereas Ishida was the Major of one of the two mechanized-infantry battalions. By all rights it should be Major Takahashi who should be chewing him out, but that didn't mean Ishida couldn't if he happened to be there.

"What did you think you were doing!" Ishida went on. "Stirring up your junior officers like this!" He was careful not to mention Kobayashi's _senior_ officers, for several of the Brigade's Majors were also present. Ishida found their failure to stop Kobayashi profoundly irritating.

"They have a right to know, sir." It was all Kobayashi could do to keep his anger in check.

"It was your _duty_ to bring this directly to Lieutenant-Colonel Morisato!" Ishida barked. "Not spouting it in the Officers' Mess! It is for him to decide whether the rest of the Legion is to know!"

"They've arrested Colonel Constantian!" Kobayashi's temper was about to get the better of him.

"So you claim," Ishida retorted. "Might I ask how you came about this information!"

"My sister from EUROMED told me."

"And on that basis you spread rumours and imperil discipline! You are out of line, Captain Kobayashi!" The last he added in a manner that hinted _not for much longer._ The Legion was already mutinous because of Cent-Hem's negotiations with Britannia, and this would only make things worse.

"Major we have to act!" Kobayashi blurted out. "We have to save Colonel Constantian! He'd do the same for any of us!" None of the others spoke, but he knew that they agreed.

"That is not for you to decide, Captain Kobayashi!" Ishida roared, trying to gain control of the situation. "Especially not on a flimsy basis like that!"

"Unfortunately it is not so flimsy, Major Ishida." Ishida spun round, then snapped to attention and saluted as he saw Lieutenant Colonel Ichijo Morisato standing in the doorway. The other officers did likewise.

"You acted properly, Major Ishida," Morisato added, so as not to wound his pride. "But the situation is already beyond control. I have just received a message that confirms what Captain Kobayashi's news. Colonel Constantian has been arrested by EUROARMPOL eight hours ago, on the charge of conspiracy to violate the chain of command. In other words, President Dressler and his followers are seeking to rein in or otherwise stave off the War party until the proposed Peace Treaty can be signed, at which point it would carry the force of law."

Anyone who saw Lieutenant Colonel Morisato and Major Ishida together could tell that they were very different men. Unlike Ishida, Morisato rarely raised his voice. Nor did he possess Ishida's aura of barely-restrained fury.

"He is being held in a EUROARMPOL facility in Belgium," he went on, dreading what he was about to say. "I have also been informed that Zero was seen visiting the facility a few hours ago, and that he left alone." _That_ got a reaction out of them. Most of his assembled subordinates were visibly bewildered, but some of their countenances darkened. He had already known which would be which.

"Sir!" Major Satoshi Fukuyama was one of the bewildered ones. "Are you saying that Zero is responsible?"

"I know of no other explanation. The opinion of EUROFORCE Command is that Zero intends to use this situation to destabilize the EU and absorb the member states into his alliance. Obviously, they are not happy about this, and neither is the War party as a whole. As for why he saw the Colonel, I can only assume that he sought to recruit him. Evidently he failed."

"Lieutenant-Colonel, what does this mean?" Fukuyama had been one of the most enthusiastic about Zero and the Black Knights, especially after the news of the Black Rebellion. Now he looked as though the bottom had fallen out of his world.

"It means that Zero is our enemy after all," said Major Sai Kimura, her narrow face radiating outrage. "It is obvious that neither he nor the Black Knights can be trusted."

Morisato eyed his subordinates. He allowed them to speak up like this, to make suggestions, so long as they did so in a professional and respectful manner. Decorum had been maintained thus far, but tensions were running high.

"He must have betrayed Colonel Constantian to Dressler and EUROARMPOL," Captain Minoru Sohma cut in. "If he can do that, he can betray others."

"But he has not betrayed _us,_" Fukuyama insisted, grasping at straws.

"How can you say that!" Kimura shrieked, rounding on him. "Magnus Constantian was one of us!"

"He led us well," Fukuyama replied. "But he is _not_ Japanese. And Zero leads the Black Knights, who liberated Japan. We should join forces with him.""

"We're the Legion! We're the strongest!" Sohma roared. "We're stronger than the Black Knights! It should have been us!"

"Enough!" Morisato's voice cut through the argument, ending it there and then. He understood the pain his subordinates felt. They had fought and suffered for so many years, won prestige and respect, dreaming of being the first onto Japanese soil when the liberation came. But the Black Knights had stolen that dream from them.

"It is true that Zero's intentions are not clear," he said, projecting serene authority. "But that does not mean we should do nothing. Even if we must join with him for the sake of Japan, we cannot abandon Colonel Constantian." He paused, looking each one of them in the eyes.

"It is true that he is not Japanese. But he led us, fought with us, bled with us. He took us seriously when no one else did, and with his help we became what we are today. He helped keep our dream alive. I for one will not abandon him to petty men who gamble with all our lives, and our country's future, for their own selfish ends."

"Sir," Major Ishida's tone was grave. "The Brigade is ready to move on your order."

"The order is given." Morisato saw the anticipation in their eyes. "I have received word from Aerie Base that our heavy equipment has been loaded onto the _Adler, _along with the new _Lupo_ knightmares, the _Gamelon_s, and the _Charlemagne_." The latter mention told them all they needed to know. It was _his_ knightmare, after all.

"To your units. We leave within the hour."

Heels clicked together. Hands snapped to temples in salute.

The JL Brigade was going to war.

_**

* * *

**__**Arras, occupied France, July 2nd 2018 ATB**_

The stars were bright.

Faramond stood on the grass, enjoying the cool night air on his face, his cloak fluttering in the breeze. He enjoyed doing so, for it allowed him to think of things other than the work he was doing for his uncle Schneizel.

He thought of the strange destiny that had brought him there. He wondered at the odds of meeting with Suzaku Kururugi, the man who had been so close to his beloved aunt Euphemia. He wondered at how he had been changed by that meeting. For the first time in years he had left his seclusion, asking his uncle to allow him to visit the base. He remembered how surprised his uncle had been, how surprised _everyone_ had been.

He felt himself smile at the memories. He remembered how Arthur the cat had jumped onto his shoulder, how he had bitten Suzaku when the knight tried to lift him off, and how everyone had laughed. He remembered the delicious food provided by Cecile, how it had made him sick, and how mortified she had been. He remembered Earl Asplund's droll humour, and the enthusiasm with which he showed of the _Lancelot_.

Faramond knew that his uncle's work would soon be over, and that he would soon return to Britannia. That meant going back into seclusion.

The idea no longer comforted him as it once had.

He had gone into seclusion of his own free will. He had not wanted to deal with the world any more. It seemed so cold, so empty, after she left. Already the Lady Marianne, who had been as a mother to him, had been brutally murdered, and his Uncle Lelouch and Aunt Nunnally sent away. To lose _her_ on top of all that…

Something had broken inside him, something for which he had no name. It had withered, drooped, decayed, like a flower deprived of water and sunlight. When it was gone, he could no longer play music, nor compose in his head as he once had. Beauty seemed beyond him, so he made do with fact.

There was a part of him that didn't want to go back into seclusion. It was making itself heard, shouting louder and louder. It wanted more days like that wonderful day. It wanted not merely to know about all the things and people in the world, but to see and experience them. It wanted to experience friendship, and to not be alone.

It wanted to experience love.

But that was not possible. For there had been only one person who truly loved him. Someone whose love was not familial obligation or selfish desire.

He didn't expect to hear a voice on the evening wind.

_Yoru no sora ni matataku _

_Tooi kin no hoshi _

_Yuube yume de miageta_

_Kotori to onaji iro _

He knew that voice. It was the voice that hadlifted him from despair, and shown him a glimpse of joy. It was the voice that had healed his wounded heart, and convinced him that true happiness was possible. It was a voice that had lingered in his dreams for nine years.

Faramond dashed across the lawn, his cloak billowing around him. He followed the sound of her voice, over the lawn and into the maze. He raced between the leafy barriers, following the sound that called to his heart.

_Nemurenu yoru ni _

_Hitori utau uta _

_Wataru kaze to issho ni _

_Omoi wo nosete tobu yo _

He began to panic. The song was nearing its end! If he didn't find her soon, then he would surely loose her again! His legs aching, he rounded a corner and ran through an arch entwined with flowers.

And there she was.

There she stood, sideways to him, hands clasped together, eyes closed. The eyes opened, saw him, turned to see him. That face, so beautiful, yet so like the one he remembered, looking somewhat surprised.

"Faramond?" That voice, the voice he knew, that stilled his pounding heart.

"Tomoyo?" Faramond still couldn't quite believe it. "Are you real?"

"Faramond," Tomoyo felt tears prick at her eyes. Most of him was swathed in a black cloak, but she knew his face. His face, with its slightly feline aspect. Those bright blue eyes, that looked upon her with such longing, and such pain. "Faramond…my Prince."

She approached him, on legs that felt like jelly.

"You left." The words barely made it out. "You didn't say goodbye."

"I didn't want to leave you." Tomoyo's normally dulcet voice was hoarse as joy and anguish warred within her. "I didn't want to leave you all alone. Can you forgive me?"

"Tomoyo," Faramond sniffed, his cheeks glistening in the moonlight. "I'm the one who should apologise . I…I couldn't shine the way you wanted me to."

"How could you shine?" Tomoyo reached up a trembling hand to caress his cheek. "They left you alone."

Faramond flung his arms around her, and she wrapped hers around him. There they stood, alone in a world of their own, for them and them alone. Faramond felt the anguish and self-hatred drain out of him, as though he were seated beneath a waterfall to cleanse his soul.

"Tomoyo," he pulled back, to look at her again. "Tomoyo, how did you get here?"

"Get here?" Tomoyo was suddenly bewildered. "I…I don't know."

"It was my doing," came a voice from the darkness. Faramond glanced around in surprise. He could not see anyone, but he had heard that voice before.

"I apologise for what I did, Lady Tomoyo Daidouji," Zero said, stepping through the opposite arch. The moonlight gleamed off his mask. "But there was no other way."

"What do you mean!" Faramond exclaimed, half-afraid, half-appalled. "If you are Zero, then why do this?"

"Because I need to speak with you, Faramond u Britannia. And this was the only way I could be sure of you."

"Sure of me?"

"Sure that you are as I knew you," Zero brought one hand up to his mask and took hold of it. "That you had not changed for the worse," he lifted off the mask, "…nephew."

Faramond's eyes widened in recognition.

"Yes, Faramond, it's me." Lelouch's grim expression softened as he looked on the nephew he had not seen in eight years. He did not appear to be in poor health, but his skin was pasty, more so than he remembered. The hair, brown and curly like his father's. The face, reminding him so much of Nunnally. Those blue eyes, questioning, wondering, not quite believing.

"I thought you were dead," Faramond said, his under-stimulated vocal chords croaking the words. "I thought they'd killed you."

"In a very real sense, they did," Lelouch admitted. "I lived these last years without meaning, cursing my powerlessness, until I donned this mask."

"But then, why did you come?"

"To set you free, my nephew." Lelouch extended a welcoming hand.

Faramond faltered, his mind frozen by indecision.

"Faramond," Lelouch fought down his nerves. "What good has it done you to stay with them? What can they offer you but loneliness and pain? Come with me, and I'll show you the life you should have known."

"But…" Faramond trembled, and Tomoyo squeezed his hand. "What of Papa…and aunt Nunnally?"

"You've seen her!" Lelouch burst forward and grabbed him by the shoulders, eyes bulging. "Your aunt Nunnally! Where is she!"

"At the palace," Faramond managed to say. "I met with her before I came here. She spoke of you." Relief and outrage warred within Lelouch. His beloved sister was alive, but retrieving her from St Darwin Boulevard would not be easy.

Then again…

Lelouch forced himself to calm down, pulling Faramond into a quick hug.

"We have to hurry," he said, pulling back to look Faramond in the face. "We can talk as much as we want later, but we must go now."

"I won't allow you to do that." All looked up to see Suzaku standing under the arch, handgun aimed straight for Lelouch's heart, eyes flashing with hate.

"Suzaku," Lelouch hissed, burning with frustration.

"Drop your gun and step away from the Prince," Suzaku growled back, his aim unwavering. Lelouch gritted his teeth, but complied, knowing he had no choice. His draw was nowhere near fast enough for this situation. His handgun dropped to the grass with a clatter.

"Your Highness, your Ladyship, come here!" Suzaku barked. "That man is extremely dangerous!"

"Don't listen to him!" Lelouch snapped back. "He'll only send you back! He'll make you lonely again!"

"Prince Faramond, he isn't who you think he is! He's not the kind person you remember! He'll only use you."

"Faramond!" Lelouch turned again to his bewildered nephew. "Have I _ever_ hurt you! Have I _ever_ lied to you!"

"I…" Faramond blurted out, looking desperately from one to the other.

"Your words betray you!" Suzaku snarled. "You've never loved anyone! People are nothing but chess pieces to you! You'd even drag an innocent girl into your schemes!"

He turned his attention to Tomoyo, who was off to one side with Faramond.

"Tomoyo oujo-sama, do you by any chance have any strange memories from the last few days?" Suzaku wondered aloud. "Moments of déjà-vu? At Strelsau perhaps?" Suzaku saw her eyes widen just slightly, and knew he was right.

"At the palace," Tomoyo said. "He came to my room, saying it was to congratulate me on my singing. I remember…it was as if my attention had wandered, and I couldn't remember what he had said."

"One of your time-delay commands?" Suzaku returned his attention to a glowering Lelouch. "Did you command her to come to you and cooperate with you? Can you be any more cheap, _Zero_?"

"Cheaper words from a man who murdered his own father and abandoned his country!" Lelouch retorted quickly. "Faramond, Suzaku Kururugi is your enemy. He changes allegiances as others change their underwear!"

"No, Uncle Lelouch!" Faramond protested. "Sir Suzaku is a good man! He is my friend!"

"I called him friend once!" Lelouch growled back. "Then he betrayed me! And Nunnally!"

"You betrayed me first!" Suzaku retorted. "And I never betrayed Nunnally!"

"You were supposed to be her knight! You were supposed to protect her! Instead you chose Euphemia!"

"The sister you both loved, or at least _you_ said you loved." Suzaku narrowed his eyes. "Or was it your jealous heart that wished her dead!"

"That's not true!" Lelouch shrieked, his voice rising as his emotions ran wild. "You know it's not true! I didn't murder her!"

"Santa Euphemia!" Suzaku accused. "A martyr to us all! Your own personal goddess! Not bad for one bullet!"

"I DID NOT MURDER HER!" Faramond and Tomoyo recoiled as Lelouch's face twisted, eyes bulging, skin stretching, flecks of spittle flying from his mouth.

"I know you didn't _do_ it," Suzaku said, his voice low. "I know you didn't _order_ it. But you as _good_ as did it. After all, _you_ created the Black Knights. _You _tried to make the world change through violence." Lelouch did not reply.

"Did you think you could control it?" Suzaku raised his voice. "Did you think you could ride the wind, or hold back the sea, or stop the sun from rising? Did you really think life was just a game of chess?"

"I won't leave him here," Lelouch replied. He was no longer shouting, but his countenance betrayed something far worse, something darker. "He's not your nephew, not your blood, he's _mine_. And I won't let them destroy him the way they destroyed my mother!"

"And I won't let you make a pawn of him!" Suzaku snapped back.

"STOP IT!"

Lelouch and Suzaku fell silent, out of shock more than anything else. They looked, and saw that the sound had come from Faramond.

"Why must you fight over me?" Faramond looked from one to the other, hurt and accusation in his eyes. "Were you not friends? Were you not like brothers?"

"_Like_ brothers!" Suzaku snarled. "We _are_ brothers!" He raised his left hand to his teeth, ripped off the glove, and upon the middle finger was a gold ring, with a pink jewel set into it.

"That ring…" Faramond's eyes widened. "It was…"

"Euphie's" Suzaku said, glowering. "Given to me by her, when we made our pledge, the night before she died."

And inside Lelouch's mind, the memory came flooding back.

"_Oh, my secret?" Euphemia replied, vacantly, as the Geass took effect. "Suzaku and I are engaged."_

"_You're…!" Lelouch could not believe it. The shock of it sent his mind into turmoil. _

"_We are." She smiled. "We made our pledge last light." _

"_You…" Lelouch backed away, trying to order his thoughts. "You…and Suzaku…"_

"_It's a secret for now, until all the formalities are dealt with. We'll get married after the announcement." She reached out her hand. "You'll come, won't you?"_

Lelouch dropped to his knees. He clutched his head, trying to keep the memories down, to deny the truth. But he could not, and all was made clear.

He flung back his head and screamed like a damned soul. The sound rolled over the grounds, and seemed like it would set the air on fire. All but Suzaku flinched from him, as if their souls feared to be snatched away by the sound.

His breath gone, Lelouch slumped forward, head hanging.

"No…" he whimpered, barely audible. "Don't let it be…true…"

"What's this?" Suzaku sneered in mock surprise. "Remorse? From the infallible Zero?" He aimed at Lelouch's head, hand steady.

"Sir Suzaku, enough," Faramond pleaded.

"Have pity," Tomoyo added. "For your sake if not for his."

"Why?" Suzaku sounded distant, almost dreamy. "He has none."

In the corner of his eye he saw something emerging from the opposite arch. Already he was moving, diving sideways as a bullet whistled through the empty air where his head had been. He rolled to his feet, turned to face his attacker, saw the JSDF issue handgun aimed straight at him.

"Kallen!" For it was she. Kallen Kozuki stood framed in the arch, her face set in determination.

"Give it up Suzaku." Her voice was hoarse, as if she had been crying.

"Kallen," Suzaku hissed. "You were listening?"

"Oh yeah," Kallen advanced, her aim still on Suzaku, though he could see her hand trembling just slightly. "I heard." Lelouch, having been shocked out of whatever nightmare he had been cast into, rose to his feet.

"Kallen…" At the sound of his voice Kallen spun, aiming her gun at Lelouch. "Kallen…"

"I…" Inside, Kallen was in turmoil.

She had disobeyed his order and followed him into the maze, suspected that he would get himself into trouble and need backup. She had listened, as the reunion of two young lovers warmed her heart. She had listened, hearing every word, as Zero had revealed his true identity, blissfully unaware that she could hear him.

Zero, her leader, the man she revered, had kept secrets from her. _Her_, the one he professed to trust, to value above all others. To think that the man she had followed to war, trusted with her life, had been a Britannian Prince. One who obviously had some kind of terrible grudge against his own family, but nonetheless a Britannian Prince. A Britannian Prince who had tempted her, lied to her, concealed his true face from her. A Britannian Prince who had driven Britannia from Japan only to rule it himself. A Britannian Prince who had risked all their lives to save his own sister, and again for his nephew.

By all rights she knew she should gun him down where he stood. But there were other thoughts, other feelings. He had kept secrets from her, but she too had kept secrets from him. She had pretended not to know who Nunnally was, though he seemed to have let it slide. He might have put them all at risk for the sake of his loved ones, but would she not have done the same for her mother? For Naoto?

"_Why didn't you trust me!_"

She realised that she had been staring at Lelouch for several seconds, wondering at the look of anguish on his face. She also realised that she had given Suzaku just the opening he needed.

She began to turn, but too late. Suzaku barrelled into her, his shoulder driving against her stomach. She crashed to the ground, the wind knocked out of her, her gun flying from her hand. Suzaku pressed his advantage, squatting on top of her to hold her in place, aiming his gun at her head. Kallen stared up at him, and saw not his usual look of grim determination, but one of unfettered hate.

"Watch ,Lelouch!" Suzaku shouted in dire exultation. "As you took my Princess, I'll take yours!"

Lelouch couldn't move, couldn't think straight, his mind racing out of control as his world collapsed around him. Kallen had been listening. She knew everything. She knew his secret, the secret he had kept from her. She hated him. She would kill him. She would tell the others. They would turn on him. They would kill him. She would kill him. She would die.

She would die. Suzaku was on top of her, pointing a gun at her, ready to kill her, for what he had done.

Then he was back _there_ again, a little boy of nine summers, looking down the grand staircase to see his mother lying there, broken and bloodstained. The image that had haunted his nightmares for nine years. The image that had driven him to remake the world no matter what the cost.

She would die. He would lose her. And he would be alone…

Suzaku never saw him coming. Lelouch screamed as he flung himself forward, knocking Suzaku off Kallen, the two rolling over and over as they grappled.

Even enraged as he was, Lelouch was no match for Suzaku. It was a matter of a moment for Suzaku to throw him off. But he had given Kallen the opening she needed. She thrust her elbow into the ground, pivoting on it as he kicked sideways with all her might. Her toecap caught Suzaku in the face, knocking him back down with a wet crunch. There he lay, stunned, as Kallen scrambled away from him and snatched up her handgun.

A roar like ocean waves filled her ears, and a blast of wind knocked her to the ground. She felt it pass over her, forcing herself to look up, to see what had caused it. She made out a narrow shape arcing up into the night sky. She thought it might be a fighter jet, but then as it crossed the face of the moon she could see its split nose, bulbous fuselage, and short wings. There wasn't a fighter jet that looked remotely like it.

_Tristan._

Suzaku's reinforcements had arrived.

Realising that they were out of time, Kallen turned to look at Tomoyo and Faramond, who were clambering to their feet.

"Oujo-sama!" she shrieked. "Get him out of here! Use this!" She pulled off her earpiece and tossed it to Tomoyo. The girl caught it, gave her a sharp nod, then grabbed Faramond by the hand and led him into the maze at a run. The Prince followed without apparent resistance. Kallen turned back to Suzaku, only to be knocked down again as another knightmare came in to land. The blast of air pinned her to the ground as it landed, spreading its legs to stand astride the fallen Suzaku.

It had not been in China, Kallen was certain. It looked somewhat like the _Lancelot_, but its armour was differently styled, its colours silver and red. It could not be _Tristan_, or _Lancelot_, or _Mordred_, for all these she had seen. That left Luciano Bradley's _Percival_ or Aramis Custer's _Palamedes_.

It had to be _Palamedes._ She knew nothing of Custer, but the Vampire of Britannia would never protect an _Eleven_.

The knightmare half-turned, an emerald _Blaze Luminous_ shimmering into being from its upper-left arm. Bullets flashed and cracked as they impacted it, but _Palamedes_ ignored its enemy, instead reaching down to scoop up the prone Suzaku in both hands. The narrow vanes of its float unit gleamed, and _Palamedes _leapt into the sky, the rush of displaced air knocking Kallen flat once again. This time she landed on her back, and saw Tohdoh's _Zangetsu_ blaze overhead, still firing as it pursued the fleeing _Palamedes_. She could hear more gunfire from the trees.

She got to her feet, allowing herself no time to feel disgruntled at being tossed around like a ragdoll. Glancing around, she saw Zero's discarded mask, picked it up, and walked over to Lelouch, who sat disconsolately on the grass.

It was hard to believe that only the night before they had been on a date, of sorts. They talked, laughed, gotten to know each other better. She might have woken up with a thumping headache and unable to remember much after the main course, but it had been special all the same.

She had no time to deal with this now. She had no time to be uncertain, to be questioning her actions, her loyalties. She had to act, or they would both die.

"Lelouch." He didn't reply, or even look up. He seemed to be in shock. But Kallen had no time for his problems, any more than she had time for her own.

"Dammit Lelouch!" She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him to his feet, shoving the mask into his hands. "You are going to put this on and do your damn job, do you hear me!" Lelouch looked at her, then at the mask, then back at her. Seeing the determination in her eyes, he crammed the mask onto his face.

"Yes, of course," Zero said, a little of his usual poise returning. "We should get out of here."

"Yes," Kallen replied pointedly. "We should."

**

* * *

****(I finally got this done. I'm sorry if I seem to be rushing things, but I need to get this plot moving. **

**I was particularly worried about the chemistry between Lelouch and Kallen. I'm sure she'd be pretty shocked to discover that Lelouch has been keeping secrets from her, but I didn't think she would simply turn on Lelouch there and then. After all, she went back to him in R2 despite knowing everything (and this time she didn't have to dress as a bunny-girl for him). I always thought she was quite a strong character, that she'd be able to put her immediate issues aside for the greater good, so I had her keep it together this time. That doesn't mean she's dropped the matter altogether though. **

**I originally planned to have Suzaku and Euphemia be secretly married, but decided that this was going too far. A secret engagement would make more sense, since she would be free to marry him once her demotion from the Imperial family was confirmed. **

**I think I should explain Zero's reaction. He suppressed the memory because he blamed himself for her death, feeling responsible for having trained and armed Tenryo. The fact that he lost control of Tenryo is also significant, because it reminds him that not everything is under his control, and that things may happen for which he can be blamed, even though he did not desire or order them. Considering how obsessed Lelouch is with control (his geass is derived from it), and that he considers the Black Knights to be an extension of his own will, I thought this would shake him up quite badly. **

**Doubtless some of you will also find Zero's treatment of Magnus very odd. Unfortunately I can't explain this without giving away the rest of the plot for this arc. I must request your forbearance on this. **

**Just to confirm, Captain Takato Kobayashi is indeed the younger brother Akiko mentioned earlier.) **


	13. The Serendipity of Devotion

**Chapter 13: The Serendipity of Devotion**

_Who knows what true loneliness is? Not the conventional word but the naked terror? To the lonely themselves it wears a mask. The most miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion.  
_

_Joseph Conrad_

_**Then**_

_**Tokyo, Free State of Japan, February 15th 2018 ATB**_

It was cold.

Tokyo, or what was left of it, was rimmed with frost, giving everything a sheen of white. Few people could be seen on the streets, and those few were either well wrapped-up or shivering, braving the cold out of sheer necessity.

The city, once the Administrative Capital of Area 11, now the National Capital of the Free State of Japan, was for the most part a pile of rubble. The settlement itself had been almost entirely destroyed, the artificial plateau on which it was built having mysteriously collapsed as the rebels advanced on it. Only the suburbs and ghettoes had survived, only to suffer heavy damage in the subsequent fighting. As such, there was a critical shortage of housing, and many of the newly-liberated Japanese in and around Tokyo were sleeping rough. Teams of volunteers moved here and there, distributing hot food and blankets, and constructing shelters where possible. But for all their efforts, people were still freezing to death.

That was the least of Kallen Kozuki's immediate concerns.

She had not expected to be back in Tokyo so soon. The Britannians had finally surrendered only a month ago, and she had expected to be occupied for some time, helping to oversee their removal from Japan.

Even as she stood in the rubble-strewn street, stamping her feet to stave off the cold, she remembered all of it. She remembered the Keihanshin siege line, the trenches, and the mud frozen as hard as stone. She remembered the lines of prisoners, Britannian soldiers stripped down to their fatigues, in some cases having lost even their boots. She remembered the refugees, trudging along the roads, crowding at the railway stations and docks, clad in filthy rags that had once been expensive clothes. They had been fortunate only to be robbed, and even then she saw them surrendering what little they had left, be jewellery, watches, even phones, to buy passage to safety.

Some had it far worse. They were still finding dead bodies in the forests, and in isolated areas. Sometimes they found small children, naked and blank-eyed, wandering among the dead bodies. The corpses were almost always naked, having been robbed even of their clothes.

Kallen felt sick at heart. She did not want to see her brother's dream besmirched this way. But part of her also knew that it was inevitable, as a conquered and abused people took revenge on their former tormentors. Doubtless many Japanese saw it as justice.

It was justice, _true_ justice, that had brought Kallen to Tokyo. She had been in Kobe with the rest of the Black Knights, when she just happened to spot a name in some paperwork. _M. Ashford._ She had grabbed the docket, and saw that it was a Missing Persons report for several students attending Ashford Academy. Then she saw the names.

That was all it took. She requested a pass, got it with minimal fuss, then raced back to Tokyo. She would find them. She _had _to find them.

For she knew the names on the report. They were all girls of her age group. She had a pretty shrewd idea of what had happened to them, and that drove her even harder.

So she had come, on that cold morning, to a raid on a Yakuza hideout.

She was not alone in the street. In fact, it was a veritable hive of activity. An area around the door of a building had been cordoned-off, and uniformed police officers moved here and there, engaging in one task or another. There was an enclosed lorry waiting outside, being slowly filled with men. The men had their hands tied together with plastic binders, and wore expressions either of resignation or barely-suppressed rage. The faces of the police officers were professionally cold as they loaded the prisoners. Both prisoners and officers were all Japanese.

As the lorry pulled away, she marched over to one of the officers. The man looked up, saw her Black Knights uniform, and stood to attention. Kallen did likewise, for though his insignia was that of a Captain, he was quite a bit older than her.

"Captain Kozuki, Zero Squadron, Order of the Black Knights," she identified herself with a salute, which the policeman returned. "I'm here to look for these individuals." She pulled a wad of papers from inside her jacket and handed them to the stone-faced policeman, who spent a few moments flicking through them, pausing on the photographs.

"Yes Captain, they are here. But I must advise you not to go in there."

"Why!" Kallen snapped, causing some of those present to look up. "What is this place!"

"Captain Kozuki…" But Kallen stepped past the unfortunate policeman and into the building. She stormed inside, policemen and forensic personnel fighting to get out of her way as they saw the look on her face. She looked from wall to wall, through the doors into the downstairs rooms. She saw the furnishings and decorations, luxurious beyond any measure of taste. She knew what it was, even as her eyes turned to the end of the corridor, where forensic personnel in their white suits were heading up and down a set of stairs. Kallen pushed past them, ignoring their shouts of protest, and headed down to the cellar.

What she saw there made her heart stop.

There was a dank corridor, illuminated with portable lamps. The air was thick with a vile stench. She recognized sweat, blood, excrement, and something else.

She forced herself to move, to look through one of the open doors. It was a cell, nothing but four stone walls, a grille-covered drain in the floor, and chains hanging from a ring on the wall.

Kallen felt as cold inside as the air outside. She couldn't move, couldn't think. She was lost in the horror of it, the images of what must have happened here playing over and over again in her mind's eye.

"Captain Kozuki." She could barely hear the words.

"Captain Kozuki." Louder this time, the police Captain's voice drew her out of the darkness.

"Captain," she whispered, shaking. "This place…this place is…"

"A Rape Dungeon, Captain Kozuki," the Captain admitted. "We think it's been here for several years, since early in the occupation."

"Years!" Kallen rounded on the policeman, rage replacing the horror. "Who the hell is responsible!"

"We have the Madam in custody upstairs," the policeman replied, his expression unchanging. "She claims this place was hers before the Yomiyuri Syndicate took over this neighbourhood after the invasion. We have evidence that the Yomiyuri collaborated with the Britannians, but nothing of this."

"Are the girls still here?" Kallen had managed to control her fury, but not calm it.

"They are upstairs receiving medical attention. I can take you to them, if you wish."

Kallen followed the Captain back up the stairs, ignoring the looks his subordinates were giving her. He led her through the corridors and into a room at the back of the house. About a dozen girls, of varying ethnicity, sat on the plush sofas or against the walls as harassed-looking men and women in paramedic overalls attended to them. They covered themselves with space blankets, and had a washed-out look to them, or so Kallen thought.

Her heart froze as her eyes lighted on one of the girls, the one with the long purple hair she knew so well.

She forced herself to move, to hunker down in front of her, to look into those blank, lifeless eyes.

"Sophie?" No reply. "Sophie, it's me, Kallen." A flicker in the eyes, then a turn of the head, until Sophie Wood was looking straight at her.

"Oh, hey Kallen." Her voice was distant, almost disinterested. "Come to have a look-see?"

Kallen flung her arms around the girl, pressing her head to her shoulder. Sophie did not respond.

"It's okay," she whispered, fighting back tears. "It's okay. You're safe now. No one's going to hurt you now."

It was too much. It was too…inhuman. Bad enough that any of them had been down there, had been through all that, but _her_…

People sometimes said that it's different when it happens to someone you care for. They were right. Sophie had been Kallen's classmate for years, one of a pack of girls who seemed to think they were her friends. But they hadn't been _her_ friends. They had been Kallen Stadtfeld's friends.

But what had she done to deserve such treatment? Was being a Britannian enough to warrant it? Had Japan fallen so low?

That had never been the idea. For Kallen, the war had been about _justice_, not revenge. Sophie and those other girls had been part of a false life, a lie she'd lived for so many years, but they were never her enemies. Nor had the Student Council been her enemies either, no matter how silly they were. She had _sworn_ to herself that she wouldn't let anything bad happen to them.

"Sophie," she said, pulling back to look the other girl in the eyes. "Sophie, it's all right now. We're going to fix you up, then you can go home. You can go back to Ash…"

"No!" Sophie broke away, shame and terror on her face and in her eyes. "No! Don't make me go back there! You can't make me go back there!"

"Sophie!" Kallen reached out, but Sophie backed away again, pressing herself against the wall and burying her head in her arms. Her space blanket slipped, and Kallen saw the livid red marks on her arms and neck. She felt as though her heart would break.

"Please," Sophie whimpered. "Don't take me back there. Don't let them see…"

She seemed so helpless now, so pathetic. She hardly seemed like the person Kallen had once known, that beautiful, confident young woman, who had such a bright future ahead of her. That young woman, who was blameless of Britannia's crimes.

That young woman, who'd been kidnapped from the Ashford Academy grounds and brought to this place, to be treated little better than livestock.

"It's not like that," Kallen insisted, easing herself closer, slowly so as not to startle her. "Everyone's worried about you. Shirley's worried about you too." Sophie looked up suddenly at the mention of her roommate, and Kallen felt a twinge of hope.

"She is?"

"Yes, she is," Kallen insisted, forcing herself to smile. "Shirley, Milly, everyone. That's why you have to go back, just as soon as you're better, okay?" Sophie stared back at her for a long time, fear and distrust in her eyes. Then, tentatively, she nodded. Kallen gave her one last hug, then left the room.

She strode out into the street with exaggerated discipline, controlling every step she took. Anger bubbling over inside her, she looked around for the lorry, for the human waste being loaded into it. But the lorry was already heading away down the street, bearing its living cargo to places unknown. Two jeeps accompanied it, one in front, one behind, both with mounted machine-guns. If the prisoners made a break for it, they wouldn't get far.

It was perhaps for the best. If they had still been there, she might have shot them all herself.

Part of her knew that her anger was pointless. For all she might want to rip their heads from their shoulders, it would be a waste of effort. A great many people had fallen foul of Zero's regime, and a great many prisons had been wrecked in the fighting. The overflow was handled by a network of prison camps, built in the most isolated areas to minimize the possibility of escape. In a cold winter, with food and fuel at a premium, with administration practically nonexistent, she doubted many would survive to face trial.

It was not the Japan her brother had dreamed of.

Kallen kept on walking, not wanting any of them to see the look on her face. She walked until she couldn't hear them behind her. She walked, even as she lost track of time.

She walked, in the vain hope that if she walked far enough, she could leave it all behind her.

_**

* * *

**_

_**Now**_

_**Brussels, Capital of the EU, Belgium, July 2nd 2018 ATB**_

The atmosphere was tense.

They had made it back to Brussels without too much difficulty. A series of raids by the French Resistance, timed to coincide with their mission, had confused the Britannians enough to let the Black Knights slip across the border, pass their knightmares to fellow Black Knights, then return to Brussels by car.

The rest had been comparatively easy. Even slipping Faramond and Tomoyo into the hotel hadn't been difficult. The Hotel Excelsior was popular with diplomatic and business parties, and as such was fully equipped for clandestine goings-on. They had parked in the underground car park, then headed up to their floor via the secure elevator. What was more, the Black Knights delegation had hired out the entire floor, further ensuring that they would not be disturbed. It was also useful in that there were two adjoining rooms available to store their two _guests._

Upon their return, Zero had retreated to his suite and locked himself in the bedroom, refusing to come out. The rest of the Black Knight leaders gathered in the floor's lounge area, where they debated what to do next.

"He won't come out at all!" Diethard Reid demanded, appalled.

"That's right, he won't," Shinichiro Tamaki replied. "Something shook him up pretty bad. That kid Lelouch is with him, but no one's heard anything since he went in."

There was a pause as this was considered. Zero had surprised them all by bringing in Lelouch Lamperouge as his personal assistant. No one had been able to find much information on him, save that he had been a student at Ashford Academy, and had apparently been working with Zero since before the Black Knights were founded. As such, no one could be entirely sure of the precise nature of their relationship.

"I don't know what his problem is," Tamaki went on. "We pulled off the mission didn't we?"

"Yes, _we,_" Kyoshiroh Tohdoh retorted. "You were back here watching _Angelic Layer_."

"Well you guys wouldn't take me on the mission!" Tamaki snapped. "Besides," he brightened somewhat, "it's been a really great tournament!"

"I think _I _deserve a little credit," commented Jiro Yamada. "I used up a lot of my clout with the French Resistance to make those raids happen."

"We're grateful, Yamada-san," Ougi replied in a deliberately conciliatory tone. He regarded Yamada, with his black hair and his Tamaki-like slouch, and wondered at how much and at the same time how little the man had changed. Jiro Yamada had been one of the founders of Naoto Kozuki's resistance cell, along with himself. Since he happened to have some correspondents in Europe, it had fallen to Yamada to travel there and start canvassing the Japanese exiles. The hope had been that it would be possible to establish funding and support networks in the EU. Back then, Yamada had been energetic and driven, determined to do all he could. Looking at him now, Ougi thought his old comrade had grown older, and perhaps wiser.

"In any case," Yamada went on. "I'm a little disappointed."

"Are you really?" Diethard replied darkly.

"You guys made out like Zero's a really great guy," Yamada sneered. "And here I find him locked up in his room. You'll forgive me if I'm not impressed."

"You wanna say that again!" Tamaki loomed drunkenly over Yamada. "You wanna talk smack about my best buddy Zero, well do ya!"

"I know the reason," Ougi said, hoping to defuse the confrontation. "It's stress."

"Stress!" Yamada looked at him as though he had told him it was due to a case of the sniffles.

"Of course it's stress!" Ougi snapped, losing his temper. "Think about it! We've all been given these really important jobs! But have we ever really done them!"

Silence.

"I was never really the Minister of Public Security." He wanted to say it. He wanted to get it off his chest. "I was just filling a chair. You all know that Zero's the one who's really been doing our jobs. He's been the one making the decisions and handling everything."

"Zero is certainly given," Diethard admitted cautiously, "to micromanagement."

"Micromanagement isn't the word!" Ougi exclaimed. "Has anyone here done _anything_ without him signing off on it? _Anything_? It's like he doesn't trust us at all!"

"You're wrong on that point," Tohdoh interjected. "He does trust us. He gave us our jobs because he trusts us to follow his lead."

"I see," Yamada quipped. "I was wondering how he," he jabbed a derisive thumb at Tamaki, "got to be Minister of Finance."

"I can do my job!" Tamaki snapped back.

"But you _don't_, that's my point!" Ougi pleaded. "We've all just been taking his orders and carrying them out! It can't be good for him or the country!"

"I see your point," Tohdoh allowed. "But what do you intend to do about it?"

"I…I don't know!" Ougi deflated. "You all know I'm no good at this kind of thing. I'm not Naoto."

"Nope," Yamada agreed. "You certainly aren't."

* * *

Kallen, in stark contrast to her comrades, knew more of both events than she would like.

She had spent a full hour since her return locked in her own suite, trying to make sense of what she had learned about Lelouch Lamperouge, also called Prince Lelouch vi Britannia, also called Zero. Her feelings roiled within her, as fierce as ocean waves and every bit as fickle. She bounced from anger to betrayal to fury to pity to love to longing and back again. Part of her raged at his lies, his betrayal of her admiration, her trust. Another part pitied his suffering, and was willing to forgive him his secrecy.

Eventually, it all boiled down to one simple question. _Who was he_? Who was that man she had followed for the past year? Who was that youth who she had found so intriguing, and yet so infuriating? Who was Lelouch really? What was the truth of him?

So now she was in Zero's suite, standing outside the locked bedroom. CC lounged on the sofa in her customary fashion, while Rolo and Kaguya hovered nervously around the door. There was a mumbling sound outside, what they could hear of the bust-up going on in the lounge a few doors along. Seemingly abandoned by their leader, the Black Knights officers were turning on one-another in their confusion and fear.

All four looked up as the door clicked open. Zero swept into the room, closing the door behind him so quickly that no one could see inside.

"Zero! I…" Kallen began, then faltered. It wasn't something obvious, wasn't a glaring error, but she nonetheless noticed the difference. Something in the way this Zero carried himself, the way he stood. It might be Zero, but it was not _him._

"How bad is it?" Sayoko asked, falling easily into the Zero role. Kallen was momentarily stunned by the peremptory question.

"They've been at each other's throats since we got back," she said, not knowing what else to do. "Konoe paid us a visit, demanded to know if it was us who did it. Tohdoh got rid of him, but they've been arguing ever since."

"I see," Sayoko-Zero replied. "I suppose I had better sort them out. Are our guests settled?" This last question was directed at Kaguya, who as far as Kallen knew was unaware of how many people actually wore the mask she admired.

"They are," Kaguya replied, worry replacing her customary enthusiasm. "Zero-sama, are you…?"

"What about Lelouch!" Rolo interjected. "Isn't he coming?"

"Lelouch is not feeling well," the faux-Zero insisted. "He'll stay where he is for the time being."

"But…" Rolo trailed off as the faux-Zero swept out. Kaguya looked after him, crestfallen at being ignored.

"Lelouch!" Rolo called, turning to the door. "Lelouch, open the door." There was no reply.

"Lelouch, brother, open the door," Rolo called again, his tone insistent. Still there was no reply.

"Lelouch, open the door!" Rolo tried the door, but it was locked and would not budge. He tried it again, his face twisting in desperation, but he could not make it open.

"Lelouch!" He banged on the door, terror on his face. "Brother open this door! Lelouch! Let me in!" Then he was banging with both hands, lost in a blind panic. Kallen found it hard to watch, and Kaguya was looking unsettled too.

"Please!" Rolo wailed, his desperation turning into despair. "Let me in! Lelouch!" He banged and banged, sometimes pulling at the door handle with all his strength. All to no avail.

Finally, after what seemed to Kallen like an eternity, Rolo gave in.

"Why?" he whimpered, slumping against the door, tears running down his face. "Why won't you let me in?"

There was silence, broken only by the sound of his anguished sobbing. Kaguya, who could evidently take no more, took him gently by the shoulders and led him away. The door clicked shut behind her.

"So then," CC slid off the sofa and sashayed over. "What now?"

"What d'you mean _what now_!" Kallen snapped. "Do you have _any_ idea of the situation we're in!"

"I imagine it could get embarrassing," she replied, in her customary deadpan, "if he doesn't turn up at the Central Hemicycle tomorrow morning."

"Exactly!" Kallen snapped back. "We need him!"

"And that's all?"

"What!"

"You only need him to play his part?" CC cocked her head. "And nothing else matters?"

"You tell me who he is then!" Kallen shrieked, losing her temper. "Tell me who he really is! Tell me about his Geass! Tell me, if you know him the way you act like you do!"

"Yes," CC mused. "I wondered when you were going to find out about that."

"So what is it!" Kallen pressed. "What's this _Geass_ thing anyway! Does it really let him control people?"

"Yes."

"And!"

"And what?"

"Did he use it on me!" Kallen spat out the words as she confessed her fear, the possibility that had haunted her those past few hours. "Did he use it to make me follow him! To make me believe in him!"

"To make you love him?"

Kallen froze at the words. CC gave her a patient look.

"No, Kallen, he didn't," she said, as if explaining to a credulous child that there isn't really a monster under the bed. "It doesn't work like that."

"It doesn't?" Kallen's voice was breathless, her eyes wide.

"He could make you _say_ that you love him," CC explained. "He could make you _act_ like you love him. But he couldn't make you _actually_ love him. It doesn't work on feelings."

"Okay, so he couldn't do that," Kallen rallied, her anger returning. "But what's to stop him just using it on me any time he wants!"

"Because it only works once per person," CC replied. "And he's used it on you before."

"He has?" Kallen faltered again, racking her memory for any indication. "What did he make me do!"

"Would you like to see?"

"What?"

"I said," CC stepped closer, until her breasts were almost touching Kallen's own. "Would you like to see for yourself?"

"What d'you mean! Of course I…!" Kallen fell silent as CC pressed her forehead to hers. She froze, surprised, wondering what on earth the other girl thought she was doing.

And then the memories flooded back.

She remembered the cave, into which she had followed Zero. She remembered the bullet hitting the mask, splitting it down the middle to reveal _his_ face underneath. A face, bloodied and streaked with tears, wreathed in the smile of a madman. She remembered Suzaku tackling him to the ground, and the choice she made. She remembered dragging Lelouch to safety, only to…

"There, you see?" CC said, stepping away. Kallen barely stayed on her feet, such was her shock and confusion.

"I…"

"Yes, you did. You could have run away, but you chose to save him." CC gave her a patient look. "Most people would think that meant something."

"That…" Kallen felt cold inside as the memories fell into place. "That man is…his _father._"

"Yes," CC confirmed. "He is."

"And Nunna-chan is…"

"A Princess." Kallen's mind began to calm, the whirlwind subsiding, as the truths became entirely clear.

"He said in the restaurant…that his mother was killed."

"Yes," CC replied. "She was."

"And so…" She recoiled from the horrible thought, but it would not be denied. "Euphemia was…"

"His sister."

Kallen wanted to cry. It was all too much, too quickly, and too tragic. But she knew that she had to go on. The answers she had wanted for so long were finally in reach, so she couldn't back down.

"You know, then," she said, her tone subdued. "You know about him, who he really is."

"I know…some things."

"Then tell me!" Kallen pleaded. "Tell me everything! I _have _to know." CC did not reply straight away. She gave Kallen an appraising look.

"_I suppose the time is right_," she thought. "_I can't afford to lose him the way I lost Mao. She'll do as well as anyone._"

CC cleared her throat, and told Kallen everything.

* * *

"He never tells me _anything_!" Rolo whimpered. "He won't trust me, no matter what I do!"

"There there," Kaguya soothed. She sat upon the bed in her room, running her hands over his brown hair. "I know." Rolo sniffed again, his face buried in her lap.

"I thought he accepted me," he went on, voice hoarse from crying. "He trusted me before. Then he got his memories back, and he changed."

"Yes," Kaguya agreed, continuing to massage his head. "He did."

Kaguya Sumeragi knew what he meant. She liked to think that she knew Zero, knew his moods, his preferences, his tendencies. Like everyone else she had seen the change that had come over Zero that night the previous December, when he had mysteriously fled the battlefield.

As the rebels were breaking, thrown back by the Britannian counterattack, he burst back into the war. He was driven, determined, unyielding. He had been everywhere, done everything, even if it took all night. He had ordered, demanded, berated, bashed heads together. New fighters were equipped, organised, and trained. Ex-soldiers and volunteers were leashed together into Tohdoh's new Japanese army. Recalcitrant resistance leaders and warlords were put down by force, their followers absorbed or slaughtered in turn. Other regional leaders and power-brokers were drawn to his side, stepping into a tent or railway carriage or office, then stepping out a few minutes later with smiles on their faces, ordering their followers to turn in their weapons.

Kaguya had no idea how he had carried out the latter part, how he had convinced so many armed troublemakers to subordinate themselves and their interests to his own. Japan had been free only a few months, and she knew that the state of the country was far from satisfactory. But it would have been far worse if he had not done it.

How _magnificent_ he had been, how_ inspiring_. Her heart still fluttered at the memory of him, in those wondrous, hideous days.

She looked down at the distraught Rolo, his head buried in her lap and weeping like a child. She knew how he felt, for she knew how it felt to be ignored, to be passed-over. To Zero she was a worthy subordinate, a valuable ally, maybe even a trusted colleague. She would be allowed to follow him, to bask in his radiance, to be a part of all that he did. But she would never be his one-and-only. She would never be his wife.

She didn't even know who he was.

"Why?" Rolo whined. "Why does Lelouch hate me?"

"Don't worry, _Rolo-kun_," she replied, keeping her voice gentle. "He doesn't hate you, and neither do I." Rolo looked up at her, his eyes puffy, but no longer crying. Kaguya gave him a smile, patting the bed next to her. Rolo climbed up, somewhat shyly, to sit where she indicated. She slid an arm around his waist, letting him rest his head on her shoulder.

What she was doing wasn't entirely proper. A daughter of a household as wealthy and well-bred as House Sumeragi should not be so physically affectionate to a boy who wasn't a blood relative. But Kaguya found that she didn't much care for those rules, especially not there and then. Not when someone needed consoling.

What was more, she found she rather liked Rolo. He had been such a considerate companion at the Soiree, even if he wasn't very talkative or dashing.

"He means a lot to you, doesn't he?" she said, rocking him gently.

"He's all I have," Rolo admitted. "He's…my family. I don't have anyone else."

"That's not true," she insisted cheerfully. "I like you a lot, Rolo-kun!"

"Oh…" Rolo sat up and looked straight at her, face reddening. "Kaguya-sama…"

"No, no," Kaguya's wagged her finger, her green eyes sparkling. "Just _Kaguya_, when we're not being formal."

"But…but why?" Rolo looked at her sideways-on, still blushing. "No one else likes me."

"Because I think you're wonderful. Even," she switched to a stage whisper, "if _he_ doesn't."

Rolo didn't know what to think. No one had ever said such things before. No one had ever comforted him like that before. At least, no one who knew what he was.

"You…really think that?" He felt a fluttering in his stomach. He was taking a risk, but he had to be sure. "You don't mind…that I…?"

"That you kill people?" Kaguya mused, making Rolo start in surprise.

"Kaguya?"

"Of course I don't mind," she replied, and she meant it. "I couldn't mind even if I wanted to. After all, Zero-sama kills people and he's still a wonderful person. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Well…yes."

"So," Kaguya took the initiative. "How about we make a promise together?"

"A promise?" Kaguya held out the smallest finger on her right hand.

"If you promise to trust me completely," she said, "I promise I'll be there for you, if you ever need a friend. So, will you promise?"

Rolo, a little nervous, extended his own finger. Kaguya curled her finger around his.

"I promise," she said, beaming.

"I promise," Rolo replied. They shook, and it was done.

"Now," she said, preparing to make her move. "Because you trust me, that means we can't keep secrets from each other. Understand?"

"Yes." Rolo was actually smiling.

"So, we'll start with one secret each." In that instant, Kaguya felt ashamed, unworthy. But at the same time, she knew that it had to be done. She _had_ to know.

"_Forgive me Rolo-kun,_" she thought. "_But I'll keep my promise, no matter what_."

"What…do you want to know?" Rolo's smile had already faltered. It was as if he could sense her intent.

"Who is Zero?"

Rolo's smile vanished, replaced by a look of terror and anguish.

"But…Kaguya…"

"You can tell me," Kaguya shot him a look of soul-melting tenderness. "You want to tell me, don't you?" Rolo opened his mouth as if to speak, then stopped himself, tried again, stopped himself.

She was asking him to betray his brother, the only brother he had. She had made a bond with him, and now she was asking him to betray the only other bond he had ever made. Rolo wanted to refuse her, to beg her to ask something else, to release him from this soul-wrenching obligation. But he dared not do so. He dared not refuse what he had taken on himself. To do so would be to dishonour her, to repay her tenderness with ingratitude.

She had given to him without obligation, without being _required_ to do so. There was no duty involved, no law, no contract. The _least_ he could do was honour her request.

But it meant betraying the trust Lelouch had placed in him! It meant forsaking his brother!

His brother, who wasn't really his brother. His brother, who had almost certainly figured out the truth. His brother who beyond any doubt saw him for what he was. His brother, who might very well toss him aside and leave him alone.

_Alone._

"Tell me Rolo," Kaguya pressed. "Who is Zero?"

Rolo told her.

* * *

A few rooms away, Faramond stood at the window, staring out over the city. The lights twinkled below him, stretching as far as his eyes could see. Their light blended with the stars above and an eerily bright moon, bathing him in their radiance.

Wonder welled inside him as he took it all in. The old quarter, with its fine old architecture, stately and elegant. The financial centre, its silver towers reaching to the heavens, reflecting the moonlight over the rest of the city. The domes of the government district, enthroned in majesty.

It might so easily have been disordered, discordant. But the different themes and styles came together easily, combining and yet complementing, blending and yet distinct. It was as if Europe's peoples had sought to embody their hopes and dreams for a better future in the city chosen for their capital.

To Faramond u Britannia, Brussels was a beautiful city.

He heard the click of the side door opening, and the lightest of footsteps approaching him. He turned his head, and gazed upon another kind of beauty.

Tomoyo Daidouji had changed a great deal over eight years, but so much about her he could still recognize. Her face, with its high cheekbones and slightly tapering chin. Those eyes, blue-running to purple, that sparkled at the sight of him. That gentle smile, that had comforted his sorrows and warmed his memories, that was directed his way even now. That black hair, shining in the moonlight, that hung straight down her back.

She had grown, of course. Beneath her neck he could see the gentle rise of her busom, even concealed beneath the blue dress that ran from her neck to her ankles. But womanhood did not mar her beauty, did not detract from his vision of her, as he had sometimes feared it might.

To look upon her was to know that his feelings had not changed.

"I was…just looking at the city," he said, managing a shy smile as he felt heat in his cheeks.

"Do you like it?" Her voice, so gentle, and yet not shy.

"I do," he replied, glancing back at the cityscape as Tomoyo stepped up beside him. "It's such a beautiful city."

"I like it too," she said. "I've lived here for years, but I never get tired of it, especially seeing it at night like this."

"Tomoyo," Faramond turned his head to regard her, unable to stop himself asking. "Was Tokyo as beautiful as this?"

"I can't really remember" Tomoyo admitted. "We lived in Kyoto before we came to Britannia."

"I heard that Kyoto is beautiful too," Faramond said, a little too quickly. "Both by night and by day."

"It is."

"I hope I'll be able to see it some day."

"You will soon." Tomoyo's smile widened, as Faramond took her hands in his. "We'll see it together."

"Tomoyo…" Faramond broke off, his smile faltering. He felt as though his heart would burst. "Tomoyo…I'm so sorry!"

"Whatever for?" Tomoyo was surprised and unsettled.

"For…" He faltered, the words catching in his throat, tears pricking at his eyes. "For what he did! For what he did…to your beautiful country! To your people! I'm so sorry!"

"Faramond…" Tomoyo breathed.

"I couldn't bear it!" Faramond wailed. "I couldn't bear it any more! All those people! The…the things they did…" He whimpered, the tears running down his face. "I…I was afraid. Afraid…that you would hate me for it."

Tomoyo felt as if every tear was crushing her heart. She couldn't bear to see him like that. It seemed _wrong_ to her, _wrong_ that he should blame himself.

"I could never hate you," she whispered, pressing her forehead to his. "And it wasn't your fault."

"Tomoyo…" She slid her arms around him, holding him to her, feeling his arms around her waist. She held him like that for a long time, until he stopped crying.

"Faramond," she said, in a low voice. "How did you know?"

"Uncle Schneizel told me," he replied. "He knows all about it. He has people bring him reports about it. I analyzed them for him."

"You analyze?" Tomoyo was surprised.

"Yes," Faramond wiped his face on his sleeve, his smile returning. "It's what I do now."

"Don't you play your flute anymore?"

"I…" Faramond blushed. "Well…I do…sometimes. It's just so hard, since Aunt Euphie died."

"I always loved it when you played your flute," Tomoyo said, a little wistfully. "I loved to sing with you accompanying me."

"Everyone in the court loved to hear you sing," Faramond's blush spread over his face.

"And I loved to sing the songs you wrote for me."

"I loved writing them for you. That's why I learnt the Japanese." Faramond looked away, embarrassed. "Even though I had to get Uncle Lelouch to help me, and you still had to correct the words."

"I didn't mind that," Tomoyo said with a smile. "I was so happy that you would do that for me. I used to hate singing before then."

"You…" Faramond was taken aback. "But…"

"I did," Tomoyo insisted, still smiling, though there was a hint of regret in her eyes. "It was like…I was just a little talking doll that sang songs for my parents. I did it…because it was what I was supposed to do." She brightened, the sadness fading from her eyes.

"But when I first sang with you, it felt different. I realised how beautiful it was to sing, and I didn't mind who I was singing for, so long as it was with you."

"Oh…" Faramond's shock faded. "But…it was so hard to play in front of people, even if it was my Lady Marianne. I was so afraid."

"But you did," Tomoyo reminded him.

"It was…" Faramond looked away again. "It was only because…Aunt Euphemia said that if I didn't do it, she'd make me wear her clothes for a whole week." Tomoyo stared at him for a moment, then pressed her hand over her mouth as she burst out laughing.

"Don't laugh!" Faramond protested. "The cat costume was bad enough!"

"But you looked so cute in the cat costume!" Tomoyo's eyes sparkled in a manner Faramond found a little disconcerting. "And I would've given anything to see you in one of her dresses. Maybe that white one with the bow on the chest?"

"I would've liked to see that too." Both looked up in surprise to see a young woman with green hair and golden eyes sitting perched on the bed. Her face was like that of a porcelain doll's, and her shapely figure was clad in a long black chest, the emblem of the Black Knights emblazoned across her ample bosom.

"I know your face," Faramond said. He was too interested to think of chiding her for entering unannounced.

"And I know yours," the young woman replied, smiling indulgently, "Prince Faramond."

* * *

The door clicked open.

"Lelouch." Kallen's voice was barely above a whisper, but the word seemed as loud as thunder in the darkened room. The figure on the bed did not move, nor did it speak.

"Lelouch," she said again, raising her voice. "Lelouch…I know. I know everything."

No reply.

"I know about your family, about your mother," she said, forcing down the lump in her throat. "I know who you are."

"Really?" The voice was hoarse, croaking. "You have the advantage then."

"Dammit!" Kallen snapped, frustrated. "Look at me, Lelouch vi Britannia!"

Slowly, tentatively, Lelouch turned his head to look at her. His eyes were red and puffy, his face wet. He looked as though the bottom had fallen out of his world.

"I suppose CC restored your memory," he said. "Now you know everything."

"Lelouch, I _don't mind_," Kallen protested. "I don't care what you were before."

"You don't?" Lelouch retorted bitterly. "Your beloved Zero is nought but a spoilt Prince who cares for nothing but his own desires, and you don't mind?"

"I knew there was more to you," she replied. "I knew you were hiding a lot of things. I told myself it didn't matter, because even though you were using us, we would use you too."

"Of course you would." A nasty, humourless smile disfigured Lelouch's tear-stained face. He drew his hand across his eyes, and Kallen started when she saw his left eye. The purple orb shimmered a malevolent crimson, covered by what looked like a stylized bird, its wings spread.

"Your Geass," she said.

"That's right," Lelouch confirmed airily. "The Power of the King. The Absolute Control. The power I used to sneak on board Clovis' MCV and kill him. The power I used to disgrace Jeremiah Gottwald. The power I used to drive Kusakabe and his men to suicide. The power that made me what I am today."

"It's not working."

"Of course it isn't. It only works once per person."

"Only once," Kallen said in a low voice. "Because you used it on me before, that day at Ashford Academy, to ask me my name."

"I remember." To Kallen's surprise, Lelouch chuckled ruefully. "It seems so long ago." Steeling herself, Kallen walked around the bed and crouched down, looking straight into Lelouch's eyes.

"Lelouch, I wasn't angry with you because of those things."

"Weren't you?"

"I was angry because you didn't tell me!" she shrieked, all her anguish and frustration pouring out. "Why couldn't you tell me! Why couldn't you trust me! After everything we've been through! After everything I've done for you! Why!"

"Because…I was afraid."

The answer brought her up short.

"I was afraid," Lelouch said again. "Afraid of losing you. I…I couldn't lose you…not after everyone else I've lost." He lowered his head. "If you want to kill me, do it here and now. I don't deserve your loyalty, or your life. I can't be Zero anymore."

"No!" Kallen snapped, horrified, backing away. "Snap out of it! You have to be Zero! You have to lead us! We _need_ you damn it!"

"I can't!" Lelouch howled, slumping off the bed onto his knees. "I can't do it anymore! I can't live as a monster!"

"What're you talking about!" exclaimed Kallen. "You saved us! You saved Japan!"

"I killed them!" he wailed. "I killed thousands! Tens of thousands! They died in the war I started!"

"There was no other way!" Kallen protested. "Any other way would've been worse!"

"I repent!" Lelouch howled, incoherent. "I repent all of it! Oh Heaven relent!" He crouched like a whipped animal.

Inside, Kallen felt raw, overwhelmed. She was watching someone fall apart in front of her, and she had no idea of how to help him.

"I never wanted to hurt anyone," Lelouch whimpered, his voice barely audible. "I never wanted to hurt the people I care for. Nunnally, Suzaku, Milly, Rivalz, Shirley…_oh God…Shirley._"

"Neither did I," Kallen whispered.

"I was young once," Lelouch went on. "I was innocent once. I was happy, with my mother, and my sisters, and my brothers too. I didn't want anything more."

"Neither did I." And it was true. Kallen remembered the child she had once been, growing up with her mother and her brother Naoto. It wasn't a completely idyllic existence, but she had been happy, at least for a time.

Lelouch sat up, making her start.

"But…I just end up hurting the people who love me, and the people I love."

"Euphemia," Kallen could barely say it. "She was…your sister."

"My sister…" Lelouch's voice was barely above a whisper. "And Nunnally. I swore I'd protect her, but I let her down. Rolo…I was going to throw him aside like a dirty rag, after everything he did for me. And Suzaku…" He let out a sob, and Kallen thought her heart would break.

"He was my only friend!" Lelouch half-growled, half-wailed. "Like a brother, even then! And he would've been my brother, if I hadn't…"

"No Lelouch!" Kallen interjected. "It wasn't your doing! It wasn't your fault! I won't stand by and let you take the blame for it!"

"But I _am_ responsible!" Lelouch protested. "I created the Black Knights! I gave them weapons! I made them think we could win! I filled their heads with dreams, and she died for it!"

"NO!" The yell broke Lelouch out of his despair, and he stared at her in disbelief.

"No!" Kallen hissed, rage mingling with her sorrow. "You are _not_ responsible for Tenryo! You do _not_ take responsibility for what he did of his own free will!"

"Kallen…"

"I've killed people too Lelouch," she said, without hesitation. "I know that I might have killed innocent people without meaning to, and sometimes I'm sure I'll burn for it. But I'll take responsibility for it. I won't hide behind you, the Black Knights, or anybody else."

Lelouch stared at her, wonder piercing his grief.

"I know there are people out there I've hurt," she went on. "I've killed people who mattered to them, people they loved." She paused, her countenance darkening.

"Sometimes I can see them in my dreams. I can see them, cursing my name and thirsting for my blood. But I'm not afraid of them. If they're still sore about it when all this is over, I say, let them come. Let them try and kill me, or drag me in front of a judge, or show me the children I left fatherless. But I won't run from it Lelouch," she looked in him the eyes. "Not ever."

She put her hands on his shoulders, and leaned in close.

"I will _never_ abandon you," she said. "Even knowing this, even knowing what I know, I'll _never_ turn my back on you. Not now, not ever. Not for Japan, not for the Black Knights, not for anything or anyone. This I vow."

Lelouch looked back into her eyes, seeing, yet not quite believing.

"This is my true heart," Kallen went on, voice cracking, but no less forceful. "And you're the only one I'll allow to see it."

Lelouch could not answer, for he was at war with his own self. Reason, cold, uncaring, sanctimonious reason, told him it could never be. It told him that what she said could never be true, that no one could say what she had just said and mean it. No one would ever really love him.

No one.

"Kallen," he whispered. "Can I show you…my heart, in return?"

"Please," she whispered back. "Show me." She wanted him to do it. She _needed_ him to show her. She couldn't live with any more mysteries, not after they had come this far.

"You are…my Black Queen, my right hand, my Red Lotus," he said, his voice even more hoarse than hers. "But…more than that…" It was too late to back down now, too late to take back his words. "I _need_ you…Kallen Kozuki."

Silence. Cold, empty silence, for what seemed like an eternity.

Then Kallen flung her arms around him and pressed him to her. Lelouch threw his own arms around her slim waist, pressing her to him in turn. And then the dam broke.

He buried his head in Kallen's shoulder, weeping like a child. She held him tight, stroking his head and back. Lelouch let out a howl as nine years of sorrow, grief, anger, and pain flooded out of him.

He could not have done this before. He had never been able to face his pain like this, for to face it was to face a void, a bottomless pit of despair, into which he knew he would fall. He knew, because there was no hope, no one who would comfort him, no one he could ever completely trust. There was no one who could ease the weight on his shoulders.

But now…

The pain faded, the anguish slipping away like smoke on the wind. Gradually he settled, sinking into her warmth.

"You're not alone," Kallen whispered into his ear. "You were never alone."

And Lelouch knew she was right, as he pulled back to look into her eyes.

He knew she meant it, as she eased her lips against his.

_**

* * *

**_

_**Somewhere in Europe, July 3rd 2018 ATB**_

Despair.

A curious state of affairs, one with which Magnus Constantian was not familiar. Nonetheless, it was the only description he could think of.

It was a soporific, draining him of energy, rendering him inert. It left him slumped on the padded bunk, unable and unwilling to shift himself.

Not that there was anywhere to go. His world was currently four metres by three metres, with a bunk built into one wall, and a toilet that was also a washbasin built into another. The illumination came from a strip in the ceiling, white and sterile. The only sensation was a slight undulation from the floor, which told him the transport was still moving.

Escape was impossible, that much he already knew. The only exit was the single sliding door in front of him, and the EUROARMPOL guards outside made no mistakes. Even if he could grab one of them and use him as a human shield, it would only get himself and the aforesaid killed. They were required to resist coercion at any cost, even their own lives.

He had no idea where he was. He knew he had been travelling for a while, at least back when he had bothered to keep time, but he had no idea in what direction. He was either in central Europe or in occupied France.

Was he in Britannian territory? Was this part of the process by which he would be turned over to his enemies? And what awaited him then? Perhaps they would ship him back to Britannia in an iron cage, to be paraded before baying crowds. Perhaps he would be publically executed, having had the entire list of his 'crimes' against the Empire read out. Or perhaps they would chain him to a wall under Temple Tower and leave him to rot.

Or was he going in the opposite direction? It might be that they had decided not to hand him over just yet. Maybe they feared that Zero would not take no for an answer, and were taking no chances.

Or perhaps they wanted to _prepare_ him first.

Doubtless they could find someone to do it, for the right money and legal immunity. Magnus had heard of the freelancers who tortured their captives until they broke, then sold them on to interested parties. His fate looked to be much the same.

Such thoughts had kept him occupied for a time, until the _Quiescence_ finally wore off, and the inevitable withdrawal set in. Once that started, there could only be despair.

Despair, for he had lost everything. _Everything._ His rank, the career he had pursued over seven hard years, the esteem of his colleagues, even his place in the world.

All gone.

All gone, because of one man.

He had known anger. He had known fury. He had raged, screamed, banged his head and his fists against the metal walls, seeking release in physical pain. He had howled and cursed, raging against Zero, against Dressler, against Britannia, against anything and everything that had ever happened to annoy him. He could not control himself, for none of his usual methods worked. His brain had spent its entire life having its emotional functions chemically neutralized, and now that it was free, it had some catching up to do. It had gotten through anger, and was now experiencing despair.

He remembered the Juvenile Care Facility. He remembered the burnt-out, exhausted staff, remembered the black bags under their eyes, the forced smiles, the flaring tempers. He remembered the cold, the damp, the food that didn't taste of anything, and didn't fill him up. He remembered curling up in a ball under his thin blanket, crying his heart out, yet knowing deep down that no one was going to do anything about it. He remembered when they started giving him the injections, and how it didn't feel so bad after that.

He remembered other things too. He remembered waking up in the hospital, and hearing that his one true friend was in a coma, and that even though he would soon wake up, he would never walk again. He remembered his EUROFORCE training, how there were times when he felt he would break, that he was being run into the ground, that he was doomed to fail. He remembered the first man he ever lost in battle. Corporal Kenji Himura, Seiryu Battalion, 3rd Company, gunned down beside him in a village without a name, somewhere in North Africa. They had scattered his ashes on an eastern wind, before the rising sun, in the hope that his spirit might find its way back to Japan. He would not be the last.

As his mind ran the gauntlet of his failures and misfortunes, it brought him, inexorably, to his last campaign. The El-Alamein offensive of June 2017 ATB, when he had, for the first and last time, commanded the JL Brigade in battle. He remembered how his men had died, in that little town in the desert. He remembered their faces, their battlecries, their bodies blown apart by bursts of gunfire. He remembered his hope turning to despair as the hours drained away, the supply planes nowhere in sight. He remembered his despondency, and theirs, as he gave the order to retreat, fleeing before the five Britannian divisions pounding towards them across the desert, thirsting for their blood.

He had played his part. He had made a name for himself, the _wunderkind_, the man who became a Lieutenant Colonel at twenty-three, who with one brigade destroyed two Britannian divisions, and come within an ace of outflanking their main thrust and hitting their supply depots. _He had come so close…_

It had all been for nothing. He had fought for nothing, suffered for nothing, hated himself for nothing, risked everything for nothing.

But why had he done it then? Why, when he knew that it was such a risk? He had chosen to join with the War Council, defying President Dressler and the rest of the government. He must have known that the price of failure would be high.

And yet he had taken the risk.

A sudden shuddering in the suspension intruded upon his funk. His thoughts lumbered from his despair, wondering what it might be. It didn't seem like much. Most likely they had just accelerated.

There it was again. And again. A rattling vibration, growing more and more insistent. Magnus' interest was piqued, curiosity energising his mind and driving away the despair.

The transport began to sway, slewing from side to side. Magnus had to steady himself to avoid falling off the bunk. He wondered what on earth could be causing it? Was the driver drunk or something?

Then he was flung off his bunk and against the wall as the transport tipped over. He could hear a screech of tortured metal underneath him, as his head throbbed with pain. The cell rolled over and over, tossing him against the walls as if he were inside a washing machine. Again and again and again.

Then it stopped. There was silence. The lights went out.

Magnus shook his head to clear it. He felt his body come alive, slowly, painfully in the places he'd landed on. It didn't feel like anything was broken or otherwise damaged. The dream-like funk he had spent the journey in was gone, replaced with a sharp focus, unlike any he'd felt before. Normally his mind was calm, clear, uncluttered, thanks to his regular _Quiescence_ doses. Now it was tense, like a coiled spring, or a predator readying to strike. His eyes flicked back and forth in the darkness, his instinct flaring like a warning buzzer, seeking some sign of danger.

Nothing. Only a faint sound coming from behind the door. It sounded like crackling flames.

The door slid open. Magnus got to his feet, peering cautiously around it. His instincts, honed by training and combat, held him in check, even as he sensed the chance of escape. When he saw no one was there, he clambered up and into the corridor, ignoring the aches in his muscles. The corridor was on one side, forcing him to slide on his stomach along it and to the side door. This he found closed, though misshapen and evidently damaged, the control panel dark and useless.

Magnus braced his legs against the wall, and rammed his body up against the door. It was would not yield. He braced and rammed again, and again, and again. His shoulder screamed in pain, but he ignored it. Frustration and desperation welled up, overriding his reason. He _had_ to get out! He_ had_ to! He…

The door crashed open, momentum bringing him up and through. Magnus threw back his head and screamed at the sky.

The sky.

Never in his life had he looked at it as it was there and then. Never had he looked at it without _Quiescence _inside him. He had never seen it like that. He had never _felt_ it like that.

For what seemed like an eternity he stared up at the sky. It was jet black, spread with glittering stars, a billion points of light, the visage of the universe, shining down upon him. It was so _vast._

He was awestruck, overwhelmed. He felt as though he was rising, growing, soaring up among them, the stars stretching out around him, reaching to receive him. He saw the constellations, and remembered the nights he'd spent lying on the grass with Lukas, as his friend pointed them all out.

If only he had been able to see them then, as he saw them now.

The euphoria faded as he felt the heat on his face, and realised that the transport's cab was on fire.

Magnus pulled himself up and out of the transport. He dropped to the ground, felt the pangs in his legs as he landed, then looked around. The transport had rolled down an embankment, leaving a trail of broken trees behind it. It was pitch-black, save for flickering lights at the top of the embankment, and the glow of the flames from the smashed cab to his left. Not wishing to look a gift horse in the mouth, Magnus made to start up the embankment.

A click from the right brought him to a halt. He glanced towards the sound, and saw a shape detach itself from the shadows by the rear of the stricken transport. The figure stepped into the light, and Magnus recognized him as one of the EUROARMPOL guards. The other man was unsteady on his feet, blood trickling down his face, but his handgun was steady, aimed at his heart.

"I'm sorry Colonel," the gendarme said. "But I have my orders. This is…the best way."

"Yes," Magnus replied, "I imagine it is." Strangely, he found he felt nothing. He felt calm again, a calm he had not felt for some time. It was the calm of one who was about to die, and could do nothing about it.

A crackle of gunfire. Magnus expected it to end, expected the pain he knew so well, this time to finish him. But it did not come.

The gendarme was flung against the transport, falling limp to the ground. Magnus blinked, his mind frozen in surprise, then looked up the embankment. He saw the shapes among the broken trees, illuminated suddenly as they switched on their flashlights. They were armed men, clad in body armour and carrying rifles, clambering down the embankment towards him. He could not see their faces, hidden as they were behind re-breather masks.

"Colonel sir." The one at their head, obviously in charge, stepped forward to salute him. "Master-Sergeant Takahashi, Seiryu Battalion, 3rd Company, sir."

Magnus' addled mind began to focus. He saw the eyes behind the visor, eyes of a kind he'd seen before. He glanced down, saw the grey EUROFORCE-issue body armour, and upon his right shoulder, a _Hinomaru_.

"Master-Sergeant," he snapped his heels together and returned the salute. "What is the situation?"

"The Brigade's embarked on the _Adler_ sir," Takahashi replied. "Lieutenant-Colonel Morisato sent us to get you sir."

"Get me?" Magnus was bewildered. "You…came for me?"

"Yes sir." Magnus stared at him, then stared at the others. Some had gone on to check the transport, but the others stared back at him. As with Takahashi, he could only see their eyes.

There was something in those eyes. Something…

"I'm grateful, Master-Sergeant," he said, forcing his words into their customary tone. "To you, and to your men." He snapped off another salute. They returned it, without hesitation. "Shall we get out of here?"

"Yes sir," Takahashi gestured up the embankment. "We've ornithopters up there to take you to the _Adler_."

"You said the _Adler_," Magnus shook his head, wondering if he had heard right. "They launched her?"

"They did sir," there was enthusiasm in Takahashi's tone now. "And wait till you see her sir!"

_**

* * *

**_

_**Brussels, 09:48, Greenwich Mean Time, 3**__**rd**__** July 2018 ATB**_

The limousines hoved into view, motorcycle outriders before and behind. The reporters crowded against the human barrier keeping them from the path of the cars. The Gendarmes, clad in blue fatigues and black armour, held their ground. The cars pulled up a line before the great dome that was the Central Hemicycle building. Attendants stepped forward to open the doors. Cameras flashed and clicked as the delegates stepped out.

Zero had arrived.

The cavalcade swept up the path between the lines of Gendarmes, led by a group of attendants. Zero himself was at their head, cloak billowing as he strode, his black and green uniformed followers striding along behind. They ignored the flashes of the cameras, the babble of a thousand questions. If they dared to try and answer, they wouldn't make their appointment before the Summer Solstice.

"…really intending to…!"

"Your Excellency can I…!"  
"What is your stance on…!"

"…if I can just…!"

Then they were inside.

Zero strode across the atrium, barely hearing the attendants as they explained the proper etiquette and the seating arrangements.

He felt energized, renewed, _alive_, in a way he hadn't felt since he'd founded the Black Knights. It wasn't just that he was about to enter the Hemicycle chamber, to stand before the governing body of the European Ultra-Union. It was more than that. As he thought of it, he found himself glancing sideways towards Kallen, who was standing in her expected place as his bodyguard. She glanced at him, their eyes met…

They looked straight ahead, Zero forcing his mind into line. Now was not the time to be thinking about…_those_ sorts of things. He was about to make one of the most important speeches of his life, in the building that to much of the world symbolized democracy and the brotherhood of nations. This was _not_ the time to be thinking about the sound Kallen made when…

A memory nagged him, and he grasped at it.

"Rolo," he spoke into his comm pickup. "Did they have it?"

"Yes brother," came the reply. "One copy of _Weekly Ace_, ready and waiting for when you get back."

"Thanks, I'll see you later." He grinned at the thought of what certain people would make of all that.

"_Zero reads Weekly Ace?_"

"All set?" He glanced behind him.

There were nods and mutters of assent from the others. As he scanned his eyes over them, his attention lighted on Kaguya. She shot him a two-fingered _good luck_ salute.

Kaguya…and Rolo…

Zero had noticed that morning how friendly they seemed to be all of a sudden. The night before he had drowned in remorse over his resentment of the younger boy, his pretend younger brother. But then he had seen that morning at breakfast, sitting together, talking like best friends. It had felt good to see them like that.

As the great doors clunked open, Zero turned to face forward, steeling himself.

"Presenting his Excellency Zero, Lord Regent of Japan, and his entourage!"

Zero forced his legs to move, striding into the chamber. As he stepped into the light, into the sound of applause, he was almost overcome by awe.

The chamber had a round, vaulted ceiling, with skylights of sculpted glass between the arches, supported on Grecian columns. The delegates were seated in a hemicycle arrangement, hence the name, around the walls. Above them hung the banners of the member states, spaced equally around the chamber. Before the front wall, towards which Zero now strode, was the main podium, from which one permitted to address the hemicycle would speak. Above it was emblazoned the EU's own emblem, a ring of golden stars, under which was written the EU's motto.

_Varietate in Concordia. _Unity in Diversity.

President Richard Dressler awaited them on the floor between the bottommost seats of the hemicycle and the podium. He beamed as he shook Zero's hand, bidding him warm greetings. There was more hand-shaking, and many introductions. And then, at Dressler's bidding, Zero headed up the steps to the podium, as his entourage took their seats below. Dressler headed back up to the rear of the hemicycle, to the box he used on events like this.

As he took the podium, Zero was struck once again at the size, and the beauty, of the place. In Britannia such a chamber would be dripping with gold leaf, draped in velvet curtains, with everything of gleaming white marble, filigreed in gold and silver. But this place was different. It was austere, understated, a reflection of the EU's personality.

In more ways than one, or so he noticed as he scanned his eyes around the vast chamber. There were many hundreds of seats, each one with its own fitted desk, but he could not help but notice that around half were empty. So was the Observer's Gallery, where representatives of the EU's dependencies and allied states, such as the African and Middle-Eastern states, would sit. He could see Yasuyuki Konoe and his own entourage sitting in one of the diplomatic boxes.

"_The War Party must have more support than I thought,_" Zero mused, clearing his throat as the noise died down.

All across the EU, and the world, people gathered around their televisions, computers, and radios. Upon countless outdoor screens, some of them erected specially by popular request, the face of Zero could be seen. The hero was about to speak.

"Representatives," he began, "of the European Ultra-Union. I stand before you, in this hall of democracy, a plaintiff." He paused for effect.

"My case is a case for freedom, and for justice. My case is the case of Japan, against the Holy Empire of Britannia." Another pause.

"I accuse Britannia of treason! Treason against justice, and common humanity! For seven years Britannia oppressed the Japanese people, treating them little better than the Africans they once enslaved! Millions died under Britannian rule, of hunger, of thirst, of preventable diseases, or else were killed for getting in the way! I accuse Britannia of rapine, robbery, conquest, and genocide!"

He paused again, looking to see what effect it was having. The delegates sat at their desks, their faces impassive. He would have to turn up the heat.

"For seven years, only one force in the world resisted Britannia. The European Ultra-Union, renowned throughout the world as a bastion of freedom, of tolerance, of progress and compassion. The peoples of Europe turned their strength, their talents, and their treasure, to a cause both noble and just."

"Miserable Representatives!" he roared. "Treacherous Representatives! Even as the tide turns, you seek to make peace with the enemy of all humanity! You have driven away your own colleagues for disagreeing with you! What crime did they commit but to seek to fight on, to save those who yet suffer under Britannia's yoke!"

_That_ got them. There was shock on their faces, disbelief, even anger. Only Dressler seemed unaffected.

"You dare come here and say that!" roared one, leaping to his feet. "A bloody-handed terrorist takes _us_ to task!"

"How many more would you have us kill!" shouted another. "How much more of our blood must be spilt to satisfy your need for revenge!"

"You call me a terrorist!" Zero roared back. "Maybe I am! But I fight because I must! I only call upon the EU to fulfil its responsibility! As the one power capable of resisting Britannia, there is no other to whom the world may turn! Will you abandon the peoples of Africa and Asia whom Britannia has enslaved!" He raised his eyes to the Press Gallery, where countless cameras stared down at him.

"I speak now to the peoples of Europe!" he proclaimed, filling his tone with sincerity. "Brave Europeans! Noble Europeans! Do not think me insensible of what you have endured these past years! You have suffered, and sacrificed! You have seen your precious young brought home in coffins, if they came home at all! You have wept, you have raged, you have driven yourselves to live from day to day!"

"The Japanese understand your suffering! They weep for the martyred dead who sleep amid Santiago's battlements! They yearn for the day when they can stand before you, a free and proud people once again, to offer their heartfelt gratitude, and sincere sympathy! You have been told that the Japanese fear other countries, that they despise their fellow human beings and hide their faces from them! I tell you it is a lie! A lie peddled by Genbu Kururugi and his hatemongers! A lie perpetuated by Britannia to justify their crimes! The Japanese people have hearts like yours, hopes like yours, dreams like yours. They love those who love them, who suffered for them, who died for them."

"I am minded, dear friends, of the heady days a century ago, when the peoples of Europe were brought together by a great cause. That cause was to end the keeping and trafficking of human beings as slaves. The world knows of how the Kingdom of Great Britain answered the call, sending its ships to blockade the slave ports, pinching off the river of blood. The world remembers how Britannia, in its thirst for human flesh, sent a fleet to drive them away, and how, one hundred and forty one years to this day, they defeat at Cape Verde. Humanity rejoiced on the third of July, Eighteen-twenty-two of the Common Era, the Glorious Third of July! The day that Britannia curses still!"

Kallen stared up at Zero from her place below the podium. She was enraptured by his words, even as she thought he was laying it on a bit thick, especially since the British Representatives weren't even there.

"I call upon the peoples of Europe to remember their past glories! To remember what they did as free peoples, in free nations! Where was the EU then? To whom has it brought democracy? Whom has it saved? _None!_ The EU exists only to turn the eyes of Europe inward, to turn the hearts of the people away from their brothers and sisters in other places. To them I say, _down_ with the EU! Down with the union that yokes the peoples of Europe and crushes their dreams! Arise Europeans! Arise and follow me! Take back your countries! Help me take back the world!"

Silence.

Silence, broken only by the sound of someone clapping, slowly.

"A wonderful speech, your Excellency." Dressler was still smiling. "How unfortunate, that not one word of it passed this chamber."

There was consternation among the Black Knights. Ougi started hissing into his comm headpiece.

"I knew you would attempt to cut me off, Dressler," Zero proclaimed. "As we speak, my subordinates and allies are moving to take control of all city communications. The broadcast will go ahead."

"Prince Schneizel warned me that something like this might happen," Dressler went on. "He told me all about your childish theatrics, and your naïve ideology. We also noticed your followers and certain people of interest to use loitering near various broadcast centres as well as the Municipal Internet hub. Rest assured EUROARMPOL deployed enough Gendarmes to guarantee success, and that your subordinates are now in custody."

He gave Zero a patient look.

"Like a spoilt child you seek to destroy that which displeases you." His tone dripped with scorn. "The EU will not bend to your foolish whims, so you seek to tear it down. When I first saw you I thought you were a beginner. Now I know that you are a spoiled brat, who knows nothing of statecraft or of the way of the world. Not only that, but you actually believed that you could use the same plan on us as you did in China."

Zero was silent, his head down. A dark cloud had descended over the building, blotting out the sunlight.

"It seems you know plenty of the way of the world, President Dressler." It was Kaguya, her face pristine and calm. She had no microphone, but her voice somehow carried through the chamber. "And you are quite the statesman too. Not many people could shape the destinies of their enemies by making peace with them."

"You are kind to say so, _young lady._" Dressler seemed amused.

"And you are kind to call me a lady, _Mister President_." Kaguya gave him a coy look. "It was so _kind_ of you to let Britannia withdraw from the war, and save itself from economic catastrophe. It was so _kind_ of you to give Schneizel the laurels of victory, the glory he needs to force through his reforms that will upset a lot of people but actually save Britannia. It was so _kind _of you to agree to everything he asked," she fluttered her eyelashes, making some of the Representatives blush, "even though Schneizel won't be able to hold you to any of it once he's cut the Britannian military down to nothing." She beamed. "You're not just kind, you're _clever _too!"

"You flatter me, your ladyship." Dressler stepped down from his box and strode over to one of the side doors. "Unfortunately for you, his Excellency didn't think to try and sneak any weapons in. I never would have thought he would be that stupid." He slid his keycard through the lock and opened the door. "Come in gentlemen."

He stepped aside as a horde of black-armoured Gendarmes poured through the doorway, splitting and fanning out around the edges of the chamber, carbines trained on the Black Knights. Kaguya retained her poise, and Zero did not move, but the others could only stare in horror and mounting despair.

"You bastard!" Tamaki snarled. "You're selling us out to the Britannians!"

"Zero!" Ougi looked up at his leader, who just stood where he was, head down and shoulders slumped. "Zero!"

Kallen felt the bottom fall out of her world. Zero's luck had finally run out, and there was no possibility of escape. He had _insisted_ that this would work. He had_ promised _them that this would work. And they had all chosen to believe him, because his crazy plans had worked before.

But surely there could be no way out of this one.

Kallen looked up at the mask, yearning to see the face underneath it, the face of the boy with bright purple eyes and the gentle, loving smile. That smile had been on his face that morning, as he lay in her arms.

Those arms would never enfold him again. Kallen felt despair overtake her, as heavy and dark as the cloud above the chamber. And it wasn't even supposed to rain that day.

Cloud?

"Unfortunately for you, _Mister President_" Zero finally replied, "I'm _not_ that stupid."

A deafening crash reverberated through the chamber. Six _Akatsuki_ knightmares dropped from the ceiling, broken glass falling like rain around them. There were screams from the hemicycle as the delegates cowered under their desks. Zero stood where he was, cloak billowing, tiny squares of glass pattering off his mask. Rolo pushed Kaguya to the floor, and Kallen threw her arms up to protect her head.

Silence descended.

Dressler recovered first, darting through the door and sprinting down the corridor. One of the knightmares levelled its wrist-mounted autocannon, but it was too late. The others moved to block the exits, servomotors whirring, feet clunking on the marble floor, taking aim at the Gendarmes, who in turn took aim at them.

It was a hopeless prospect.

"Lay down your weapons!" Zero called in English. Gone was his apparent despair. Now he stood with back straight, and magic in every gesture. "Don't die here for nothing!"

For a moment there was silence. Then, in ones and twos, the Gendarmes laid down their carbines.

"Zero!" Tamaki shrieked, face split in exultation. "My best buddy! You did it again!"

"Did what again!" Ougi spluttered. "Was this part of the plan?"

"It's not one of my best," Zero admitted, coming down the steps. "But we had fewer options this time round."

"You want us to take them all hostage!" Tamaki asked, tying on his headband.

"No," Zero replied, loud enough that the terrified Representatives could hear him. "We will not stoop to Dressler's level! He has breached our safe conduct in contravention of both EU and International Law! We seek only to defend ourselves!" He turned to his followers. In their faces and eyes he saw exultation and hope where only minutes ago there had been fear and despair. "Everyone, let's get on board."

"Zero-sama!" It was Kaguya, who was looking around with obvious worry. "I can't find Rolo anywhere! He was just here a minute ago!"

"Don't worry!" Zero reassured her, lowering his voice. "He's carrying out my orders." Under his mask, his grin widened, remembering the moment of déjà-vu from a few moments ago. Rolo hadn't lost his touch.

It was a matter of a few minutes for the knightmares to ferry his followers back up through the ceiling. Zero waited until last, along with Kallen. As the _Akatsuki_ carried them up, one in each hand, Zero saw the look Kallen was giving him. He felt a warm glow at the sight of her smile.

As the last knightmare disappeared through the shattered skylight, there was a pause among those left behind.

Then they ran. The terrified delegates swarmed down the corridors and out of the building, chivvied along by the Gendarmes. Some looked up as they dashed out into the daylight, and saw that it was not a dark cloud that had blotted out the sun.

A Zeppelin hovered over the hemicycle building, the sunlight gleaming on its silver skin. EUROARMPOL ornithopters buzzed around it like so many hoverflies, vigilant, and yet entirely impotent.

All at once the zeppelin shuddered, gouts of gas letting loose from the superstructure. The ornithopters backed away as the upper hull exploded, curved girders flying outward to fall into the open space around the hemicycle building. Blue flames leapt as the skin burnt away, sending up clouds of smoke. More girders crashed down, some of them landing on the hemicycle building itself. Within mere seconds, nothing remained of the zeppelin but a pall of smoke.

The _Ikaruga _slid out of the smoke, float engines glowing bright, the ornithopters scattering as it came on. Three hundred metres long, dark blue but for the great black prow, the emblem of the Black Knights emblazoned in white across it.

* * *

"We must remember to thank her Imperial Majesty for a fine piece of engineering," Zero commented as he swept onto the bridge. "That frame concealed us perfectly."

"Zero! We've got a problem!" called Minami Yoshitaka, the Ikaruga's Captain, as Zero took his seat. "Britannian floatships inbound from south-east!"

"Have you ID'd them yet?"

"Four _Caerleon_ class escorts! Two _Logres_ class floatships, Registry IDs them as _Magnificent_ and _Formidable_…and _Avalon_!"

Some of the bridge crew looked at one-another, or at Zero, when that name was mentioned. It could mean only one thing.

"Britannian floatships!" Ougi exclaimed. "But that's breaking the ceasefire!" He looked up at Zero, his eyes begging for answers.

"Not necessarily," was the answer he got. "Not if he received special permission from a legally competent authority, namely President Dressler."

"Well that's just great!" snapped Tamaki, who had wandered in after Zero. "We let him get away!"

"Zero, forgive me for asking at this time," Diethard interjected from his station. "But was there any purpose at all in what we've done today?"

"Yes there was," Zero replied. "It was to make Dressler go ahead with his own plan. That speech confirmed what he already thought about me, which made him overconfident. In turn, he violated our Safe Conduct without any hard evidence of wrongdoing, no doubt expecting to be able to hand us over to the Britannians before anyone could question his actions. Everything we've done has been in our own self-defence."

"So long as no one mentions the Prince" Ougi commented sardonically.

"A factor he cannot prove," Zero insisted. "

"Even so," Diethard went on. "I must recommend that we make a break for the coast and head for British airspace. They're the ones most likely to help us."

"We stay," Zero stated firmly. "Plan Sekigahara is entering its final stage. We must see this through, and hope Hideaki understood." As the bridge crew glanced at one-another, Zero pressed the comm button on his chair armrest. "Laksharta, is your latest toy ready?"

"Ready when you are Zero!" Laksharta's voice called back from the speakers. "Conditions are ideal!"

"Excellent," Zero switched off the link, returning his attention to the Bridge. "Where are the Britannians now?"

"Two-hundred kilometres and inbound!" Hinata Ichijiku called from the Radar station.

"Ready the Gefjun Interdictor!" Zero called. "Wait for my signal!"

"Enemy is halting!" Hinata shouted up. "Holding position at one-hundred-twenty-four kilometres!"

"Gefjun Interdictor stand by!" Zero gripped the arms of his chair until his knuckles whitened under his gloves. .

"_Come on Rolo_!"

_**

* * *

**_

_**Residential Palace, 10:28 AM**_

As Commissar-General Rico strode into the Presidential office, he found the incumbent standing at his desk, a phone clamped to his ear.

"Yes your Highness! Of course your Highness!" He was talking too fast, betraying his frayed nerves. "You'll receive the call within a few minutes. The code phrase is _God or the Devil._ Yes…_thank_ you your Highness!" He put the phone down.

"Your plan failed, Mister President," Rico said curtly. "You very nearly cost me forty good Gendarmes, and now the Black Knights are hovering over this city in a floatship armed with electromagnetic weaponry. Do I need to tell you what that means?"

"What it means," Dressler retorted. "Is that you will issue a city-wide evacuation order immediately. Prince Schneizel is going to resolve the matter himself."

"You do of course realise," Rico kept his tone level, "that his forces are in violation of the ceasefire."

"No they aren't!" Dressler hissed. "Because I'm about to issue a direct order to all forces explaining the situation. There'll be no possibility of anyone taking this the wrong way." His normally calm face was flushed and sweating, and there was a strange light in his eyes. "If Zero thinks he can beat me that easily, he's going to regret it."

"Mister President!" Rico raised his voice as much as his personality would allow. "You must realise that you are acting in contravention of the law! Arresting Constantian was bad enough, but breaching Safe Conduct without legal basis! You are going too far Mister President!"

"Too far!" Dressler snapped, rounding on the Commissar-General. "I am the President of the Council of Ministers! I am the Leader of the European Ultra-Union! What's more, I'm doing what is necessary to preserve the security and stability of that self-same Union!" His eyes were wide and staring, veins prominent on his forehead and temples.

"I am not going to see it ruined by some latter-day Byron in a mask and cape!" He stormed around his desk. "I'm going to…!"

He froze. Rico blinked in surprise. Dressler was staring at him as if he had sprouted horns, the colour draining from his face. What was more, Rico kept feeling something that he couldn't quite place, almost a sense of _déjà vu._

"It's _you_!" Dressler hissed. "You're one of _them_! You're with the Black Knights!"

"What're you talking about!" For the first time in a great many years, Rico felt quite bewildered.

"Don't think I can't see you!" Dressler started fumbling in one of his desk drawers. "You won't get me the way you got all those others!"

"Mister President! What the…Mister President!" Rico recoiled in shock as the obviously-insane Dressler brought up a handgun.

"You're not going to get me!" Dressler shrieked, and pulled the trigger.

Pain lanced through Rico's being as the bullet tore into his right shoulder. As he staggered back, his left hand was already bringing up his own handgun. Dressler looked momentarily stunned, having evidently forgotten that the Commissar-General was left-handed. Rico felt his trigger-finger clamp down hard, the gun bucking in his hand as he emptied the clip into the man who was trying to kill him.

He felt himself hit the wall behind him. His vision blurred and stuttered, like a vid-comm with a bad connection, but he could see his would-be killer crash back against the desk and fall to the floor, rolling into his back.

As he slumped down the wall, Rico could see the black holes in the President's chest, the white around them turning slowly red.

He had shot the President.

The President had tried to kill him, and he had shot the President.

Joseph Rico felt himself losing consciousness, and found he didn't want to resist. He had given his whole life to duty, to the service of justice. He had long believed that justice was best served through the service of the law, unbending, unyielding, without compromise. They called him _Javert_ because of it. They had called him _martinet_, _tyrant_, _stone-hearted_, because he would not be swayed from the pursuit of justice.

And he had killed the President. Killed him in a sound-proofed room with no security cameras and no witnesses. Dressler's paranoia, so carefully concealed from public attention, had cost him in the end, but it would cost Joseph Rico much more.

As he slipped into the blackness, he thought he saw someone standing by the desk. Words rang in his mind as his eyes slid shut.

"…_God or the Devil…_"

* * *

_**The **_**Avalon**_**, 10:35 AM**_

"Message confirmed!" called the comm-officer from his station. "Password _God or the Devil_, message received and understood."

"Very good," Prince Schneizel el Britannia replied from his command chair. "Order off to the other ships. Accelerate to flank speed. The escorts will move to cut off their line of retreat, while _Magnificent_ and _Formidable_ advance on our flanks."

"Yes, your Highness." He felt the _Avalon_ accelerate.

"Your Highness!" Schneizel looked up to see Suzaku Kururugi's face appear on the main screen. "Should we really fire on them? Prince Faramond might be on board!"

"I'm aware of that possibility," Schneizel replied. "But there's nothing we can do about it."

"Your Highness!" Suzaku looked shocked.

"Your Highness!" Now it was Aramis Custer's turn to interject. "Please allow us, the Knights of the Round Table, to atone for our disgrace! Please allow us to retrieve his Imperial Highness!"

"I expect no less of you." Schneizel gave them a slight smile. "Don't worry, I have no intention of killing my nephew. We will use our firepower to wear down their shields, allowing you to disable the float engines and force it to land. Our ground forces will provide covering fire, and assist with the boarding action once the _Ikaruga_ is down. It will be for you to retrieve Faramond at that point. Am I understood?"

"Yes, your Highness." The two knights lowered their heads in deference, and their screens disappeared.

They could see the _Ikaruga _ahead of them, a blue blob in the far distance. Another image appeared on the main screen, showing _Ikaruga _in magnification. It had come to a halt in what approximated to the centre of the city.

Schneizel narrowed his eyes as he saw something emerge from the enemy floatship's underside. A device of some kind was being lowered, glowing green like the float engines.

"Energy spike!" Cecile Croomy called from her station. Nina, who had been standing beside Schneizel's throne, hurried over. On the screen, Schneizel could see the device being dropped off, the tiny shapes of knightmares sliding down around it. The device seemed to grow, extending upward.

"Your Highness!" Nina shrieked. "It's a Gefjun field!"

"What!" Kanon Maldini, who had been standing behind his master, looked up in surprise.

"Oh dear," commented Lloyd Asplund, who had come along to watch the fireworks.

Green light lanced out from the device. In the blink of an eye it was all over the city, criss-crossing back and forth, beaming out into the land beyond. Like a wave it washed over the oncoming floatships.

"Your Highness! We've lost long-range communications!"

"Long-range scanners are offline!"

"Your Highness?" Kanon looked to Schneizel. He sat where he was, a picture of serenity.

"But how!" Kanon looked to Nina in bewilderment. "How could he…!"

"The phone masts!" Nina snapped back as understanding dawned. "He's bouncing it off the phone masts!"

"The phone masts," Lloyd's usual air of amusement had a dark tinge to it, "the satellite dishes, the digital transmitters." He glowered. "It seems Laksharta has struck again."

"Lloyd!" Cecile was trying not to look exasperated. "We have issues here other than your professional pride!"

"I know!" Lloyd suddenly brightened. "But I'd love to get my hands on her little device. Could we manage it, your Highness?" He turned to Schneizel, as did everyone else.

"Are our other systems online?" he asked.

"All weapons online!" called back the Tactical officer. "Manual targeting is online!"

"I have the datalink to the other ships!" added the Comm officer. "We have short-range communications and scanners!"

"Then it seems we have all we need," Schneizel commented. "What is the range to the _Ikaruga_?"

"Twenty-two kilometres, your Highness. We are in direct-fire range for the railguns."

"Order off to _Magnificent_ and _Formidable_. Have them deploy their full ground forces immediately. Their primary target is the device, then to follow their previous orders."

"Message sending!" A pause. "Message incoming! Received and understood!"

"Your Highness," Kanon leant towards him, lowering his voice. "If we stay here, we'll be out of communication with our forces. If something should go wrong…"

"I know, Kanon," Schneizel smiled. "But we can't miss an opportunity like this. Besides, _they're_ blind too." Kanon looked uncertain, but bowed and stepped back.

"All knightmares launch," Schneizel commanded. "Railguns will fire when ready."

Beneath him, the _Avalon_ shuddered as it slowed, turning to bring its nose-mounted heavy railgun to bear.

**__**

**_

* * *

_**

**_The _**

**Ikaruga**

"What is our status!" Zero called, as the _Ikaruga_ lifted away from the freshly-deployed Gefjun Interdictor.

"Main capacitors charged and ready," came the reply. All conduits show green. Battery status optimal."

"Shield projectors online," called Ayame Futuba from the Tactical station. "Railguns online. Catapult online. Missiles loaded. Deck reports all knightmares ready.

"Excellent." Zero felt calm, resolved. The _Ikaruga _was ready for battle. They could do no better than they had. It was up to _him_ now.

"Our objective is to keep the Britannian floatships inside the jamming zone. If we are to succeed, Schneizel must be kept out of contact with his forces." He paused a moment for effect. "This is all we can do for now. The rest is up to the Europeans, and to fortune's favour."

"You'll give us another miracle Zero!" Tamaki proclaimed from his _Gekka _down on the ground.

"_A miracle is what we'll need,_" Zero thought. "Status of enemy!"

"Enemy is incoming!" Ayame called back. "They're launching knightmares!"

Zero steeled himself, the moment seeming to stretch before him.

"Railguns! Fire as you bear! All knightmares! Launch!"

* * *

Above the city of Brussels, a battle was beginning.

The two _Logres _class floatships, _Magnificent _and _Formidable_, descended to the tops of the buildings, preparing to deploy their payloads of troops, ground-based knightmares, and tanks. They chose their positions well, ensuring that their main catapults would not be blocked, allowing their flight-capable knightmares and VTOL gunships to launch unhindered. The four _Caerleon_ class escorts moved along the flanks in two pairs, seeking to outflank the lone _Ikaruga. _They too disgorged swarms of airborne knightmares, their catapults launching them straight at the _Ikaruga_. As they did, the _Avalon_ moved up the centre, firing off its own mecha complement.

Half of the Britannian knightmares were of the new _Vincent Ward _class, painted army blue. But the other half, those launched from the _Caerleons_, were older _Gloucester_ knightmares. Sakuradite shortages had limited the _Vincent Ward_'s production run, and the more conventional _Gloucester_ and _Sutherland_ classes were having to take up the slack. But they were still capable machines, and all those currently in the air had been recently upgraded, as well as fitted with float units. With sixty each from the _Logres_', forty each from the _Caerleon_s, and twenty from the _Avalon_, that made for three-hundred knightmares, swarming like hornets in the sky.

But the Black Knights were launching to face them. Four Squadrons of _Akatsuki_ knightmares, eighty in total, soared from the _Ikaruga_'s catapult. Zero Squadron flew at their head, 1st Squadron directly behind, 2nd and 3rd Squadrons spreading out to the flanks. The remaining six squadrons of _Gekka_ knightmares, Fifth through Ninth, were on the ground. Eight and Ninth Squadrons took up positions around the Gefjun interdictor, a great cylinder topped with a glowing dome, while the rest spread out into the nearby streets, taking up ambush positions. Commando A, B and C companies, numbering six-hundred troops between them, did likewise.

High in the sky, racing ahead at the speartip, was a blood-red knightmare, known throughout the world. _Guren Kashoshiki._

Inside it, Kallen Kozuki felt the tension knot her stomach. She could tell by looking that this would not be an easy battle. Eighty against three-hundred didn't make for good odds, and while the Black Knights had her, Tohdoh, and his Four Holy Swords, the Britannians had three Knights of the Round Table, possibly four.

And _him._

"All units!" She heard Tohdoh's voice over the comm. "You have your orders! Hit them hard and hold nothing back! Show all of Europe the will of the Black Knights!"

"Yes sir!" the voices roared back.

"Thanoor to Tohdoh," came the cool voice of Captain Indira Thanoor, one of the Indian volunteers who now led 4th Squadron. "Engaging lead _Caerleon_. Over."

"Understood. Over."

Kallen felt the exultation rise within her as her knightmare accelerated. It wasn't like the night before. That had been tenderness, warmth, love. This was energy, life, determination. She would win this desperate battle. She _would_ succeed. She_ would_ survive. She _would_ protect him. And she would see him again.

"Santa Euphemia! Guide and protect us!" screamed a frantic voice over the comm. More voices followed it, the Black Knights calling out their battlecries.

"Long live Japan!"

"Long live our Divine Emperor!"

"Hail Zero!"

She could see the enemies now. Two pairs of _Vincent Ward_s in Royal Guard colours. These were the ones she had to defeat. These were the ones she had to keep away from her comrades. The more she destroyed, the better her chances.

She rammed her feet down, forcing back the pedals and driving _Guren_ to full thrust. As she raced towards the enemy, her mouth formed a scream.

"_LELOUCH!_"

The _Vincent Ward_ filled her forward screen. It opened fire, sending a trail of 30mm rounds her way. Kallen spun, some bullets flying past, others spanging off her armour. She thrust her joystick forward, plunging it into the enemy's torso. So hard did it strike, that the knightmare was flung backwards, its plastron a ruin of twisted composite. As it spun way, Kallen brought up her wrist-mounted autocannon.

It was a 30mm rapid-firing coilgun, much like the Assault Rifle used by Britannian knightmares, and could even use its ammunition. It roared as she squeezed the trigger, spitting bullets the size of beer bottles at the helpless _Vincent Ward._ She saw the wings fly away, followed by a flash as the rounds tore through the thinner armour around its midriff. The yggdrasil drive was penetrated, and the knightmare exploded into a fireball.

But Kallen was already moving, bringing _Guren_ around in a smooth, tight arc. She looked from her console to her screen, seeking her next target.

And _he_ was there.

His white knightmare, boiling through the sky towards her. She knew it well.

She saw the _Lancelot _coming, VARIS levelled. She evaded, high-velocity shells cutting through the space she had inhabited an instant before. Then he was upon her, Maser-Vibration-Swords out, their blades shining. She was ready, bringing up her _Fukushahado_ to block. The mighty claw-like hand glowed red as the weapon activated, wreathing it in micro-wave radiation. It caught the blow, and Kallen thrust her other arm forward, wrist autocannon firing. The _Lancelot_ kicked her away, sending her tumbling end over end. She righted herself, bring _Guren _round again, seeing him on her screen. He had pulled out the VARIS again, and she now saw what looked like a short wing, painted blue, flip up from behind its shoulder. She saw him slot the VARIS into it, and guessed its purpose.

Driven by a sudden notion, she slammed her hand on the control panel, switching off the float unit. She felt the _Guren_ fall over backwards, dropping from the sky. The blast flashed overhead, and her console beeped at her in warning as the temperature rose.

Gritting her teeth, she allowed the _Guren_ to go on falling, waiting until it was upright, before she hit the control again. The knightmare halted in midair as the float unit reactivated, and with a yank on the controls, she brought the _Fukushahado_ up. The reticule slid neatly over the _Lancelot_, and she knew she had taken him by surprise.

Kallen squeezed the trigger, and a burst of red and purple microwave radiation, lanced from the _Fukushahado_'s palm. She saw the _Lancelot_ break right, bringing up its arms to guard, and Kallen knew that it wouldn't make it.

She gave a snarl of frustration as the beam missed. But then she saw the _Lancelot_ dropping away, saw the green panes on its forearms flicker and vanish.

The comm crackled, and Kallen saw that one of her stored frequencies was active.

"I won't let you do it Kallen!" came Suzaku's familiar voice. "Good people have died to bring about peace, and I won't let you ruin it!"

"What peace!" Kallen snapped back. "The only peace you offer is surrender!"

"You weren't at Santiago, Kallen. If you were, you would know why this war has to end. If you had seen them there, seen them dying..." he broke off suddenly. Kallen found herself wondering what he had witnessed in that terrible campaign. For a fraction of an instant she didn't want to fight him, remembering what Lelouch had told her.

"I'm sorry Suzaku," she said, determined. "But I'm not going to let you have your way!"

"He kidnapped Prince Faramond! A child!" Suzaku roared, as the _Lancelot_ blazed towards her. "You'd follow someone like that!"

"As if we'd harm him!" Kallen snarled, offense driving down the pity as she evaded. "As if we'd stoop to Britannia's level! He's safer with us than he'd ever be with you!"

"I won't let you take him!" There was something dark and terrible in Suzaku's voice. The _Lancelot_ seemed to share in his rage, and Kallen could have sworn that its eyes flashed as he screamed the words. The knightmare came on again, and again Kallen evaded, parrying a blow that got too close. The pair broke apart, dropped back, then came on again, repeating their dire joust. They clashed, and broke apart.

Then Kallen remembered. Working fast, she keyed for her newest weapon, one Laksharta had added before China, but she had never gotten around to trying. She had break the deadlock.

As _Lancelot _came on again, the weapon showed green, and Kallen squeezed the trigger. The _Guren'_s shoulders flipped open, a spread of tiny missiles leaping forth in a cloud of smoke. Kallen watched them soar towards their target, white pencil trails behind them. She saw them spread out around the _Lancelot_, slowing down as they got into position.

A flash of light, and the _Lancelot_ seemed to be mired in invisible mud. Its movements slowed, stuttered even. It could only hover where it was…helpless.

Kallen gave a hiss of satisfaction. Laksharta's Gefjun Net, like her Gefjun Interdictor, was a success.

She had only a little energy in her _Fukushahado_'s capacitor. Rather than fire at a distance, she pushed back the pedals and aimed _Guren_ straight at the stricken _Lancelot_. She rammed the _Fukushahado _forward, the glowing claws aimed for the _Lancelot_'s plastron. It struck, and the explosion flung the _Lancelot_ back. As the tiny modules returned to her shoulders, Kallen watched her enemy fall, dropping from the sky like a fallen angel cast from heaven. She raised her left arm, aiming her autocannon at the falling knightmare. She fired.

But then another knightmare was in the way. She gave a yell of surprise as what looked like a red-and-silver version of the _Lancelot_ leapt into her field of fire, her bullets catching on the emerald _Blaze Luminous_ that ran from shoulder to elbow.

_Palomedes_.

"Who the hell are you!" Kallen shrieked indignantly.

"I am Aramis Custer, the Knight of Seven," a cultured voice came back. "My oath-brother is not for you to kill. I will be your opponent."

"Fine by me!" Kallen dove the _Guren _down on the red knightmare, only to see it break right. She turned in her dive to catch it, lashing out with the _Fukushahado. _The _Palomedes_ carried an MVS of its own, which it used to parry her blow. The pair broke apart, hovering where they were for a moment.

"You fight with cunning and skill," the voice said. "You are worthy to be called the Red Lotus."

"_At least he's not calling me Crimson Princess,_" Kallen thought sourly. Then a crackle from her comm drew her attention.

"Kallen!" It was Ayame. "Break right! Now!"

"What!" Kallen glanced towards the _Ikaruga_, and saw the red glow either side of the bow. With a shriek of terror, Kallen threw herself sideways, hauling the _Guren_ about as the Hadron cannons fired. She saw the _Palomedes_ doing likewise for an instant before the beam flashed past. She looked to follow its course, and saw it heading straight for one of the _Caerleon_ floatships on the left flank. The beam struck the rearmost ship, the _Blaze_ _Luminous_ instantly overwhelmed. Kallen saw the bright flashes as the _Gloucesters_ that were guarding it exploded, caught in the deadly blast. The _Caerleon_ bubbled, its hull distorting as the beam tore through. Then it exploded in a flash as bright as the sun. Kallen turned, not wanting _Guren_'s screen to darken and temporarily blind her. She looked around for _Palomedes_, and saw it racing away towards the other flank, the duel evidently abandoned. Kallen set off in pursuit.

All around her the battle raged, knightmares whirling and diving. It was a like a dogfight in some old movie, but instead of old biplanes, or Zeroes and Hellcats, this time is was _Akatsuki_s and _Vincent Ward_s. Kallen saw the bright flashes of exploding frames, whether friend or foe she could not tell. She saw trails of smoke as some knightmares ran for their motherships, or else spiralled out of the sky.

Up ahead, she saw that Thanoor's 4th Squadron had been successful. Another_ Caerleon_ was dropping from the sky, engines winking out, smoke pouring from its ruptured hull.

* * *

Rolo hauled on the controls, slewing his _Vincent _around. One more _Gloucester_ remained, out of the twelve that had come charging down the boulevard a few moments earlier, and it was determined to get him or die trying.

Rolo throught of using his geass, but decided against it. Instead he crouched and dodged, letting the _Gloucester_ slide past him, before turning on his heels and firing. His wrist-mounted twin 30mm autocannons turned the unfortunate _Gloucester_ into scrap metal. Rolo stopped, before his knightmare could back into the wall.

"Hey!" Tamaki called over the comm. "Someone lend me a hand! I'm stuck!"

"Where are you!" someone replied. Rolo looked up and saw that Tamaki had managed to crash his escape pod through the already-damaged wall of a department store.

"I…Frig! I'm the lingerie section!"

Rolo rolled his eyes, deciding to leave the insufferable man where he was. In any case he had more immediate concerns. His console beeped, the scanner reticule indicating something moving out from behind a building at the other end of the boulevard. He swivelled the rollerball with his thumb, moving the cursor over it, and clicked. A magnified image appeared, showing it to be a Britannian _Caliburn_ tank.

Rolo yanked the joysticks, bringing the _Vincent_ sideways. The _Caliburn_ fired, the sonic boom threatening to knock the _Vincent _over as the shell flashed past. He glanced back, and saw a building at the other end of the boulevard disappear in a cloud of dust.

Rolo gritted his teeth. The _Caliburn_ might be slow and unwieldy, and not many in the Britannian army knew how to use it properly, but that railgun covered most of its sins.

"I'm on it!" Two of the _Gekka_ frames charged towards the _Caliburn_, spraying fire from their wrists. But the tank rolled back where it had come from, and Rolo could see the shapes of _Gloucester_s appear from either side. He opened his mouth to shout a warning, but too late. Tracer fire criss-crossed the boulevard, and both _Gekka_ went down.

"_Vincent _to _Ikaruga_! Enemy is Crouching Tiger, repeat, Crouching Tiger, over!"

"This is Zero," came his brother's voice over the comm. "What's your situation!"

"They're in Crouching Tiger!" Rolo repeated, ducking back again as the tank made another appearance. "One tank! Six frames! They've got the street covered!"

"Rolo! We can't get bogged down! I need you to take out the tank immediately!"

"Understood!" As another shot shrieked past, Rolo suppressed a hiss of irritation.

"_Brother, why can't you learn the terminology?_"

It was a matter of a moment to fire his Slash Harkens and pull himself into a flying leap. He turned on the float unit, skimming across the rooftops in the direction of the tank. His console beeped as two _Carnwennan_ gunships ran their scanners over him. Rolo rolled, bringing up his left wrist as the gunships moved to fire on him. A burst of 30mm rounds blew one of them apart, but the other continued its run, returning fire with its ventral railgun. Rolo hissed, breaking away to fly straight past, firing his Slash Harkens as he went. The rocket anchors struck true, sending the gunship tumbling to the ground.

Rolo brought the _Vincent_ around again, looking for his target. He saw it, sitting in the street below and to his left, railgun aimed straight at him. He dove, but the slipstream caught him from behind, sending his knightmare tumbling end over end.

The shock ran through his body as he crash-landed, making his ribs vibrate and his head feel as though it would explode. His pilot suit inflated, cushioning the worst, and possibly saving his life.

Shaking away the dizziness, Rolo checked his instruments. All systems green. Fortunately he had been flying low, low enough to avoid the Gefjun Interdictor's effects, or else it might have been worse.

He pulled his knightmare back, shaking it loose from the building it had crashed into. Looking left, he saw the _Gloucester_s turning to look at him, the _Caliburn_ pulling back, rotating its turret to face him. The railgun's oblong bore was coming his way, with death to follow shortly.

He had only one option.

Rolo felt his chest tighten as his geass activated. He pressed down on his heart, forcing it to keep on pumping. The enemy knightmares were frozen, half-turned, weapons half-raised. The tank kept on reversing, slamming into a pile of rubble, engine roaring as it started to climb.

_Just a little longer_.

He dropped it, and gasped as his heart began to beat once again. The _Gloucester_s unfroze, but Rolo was already on the move, the twin-bladed MVS in his knightmare's right-hand. He caught one enemy in the midriff, blasting another as he passed. Two of the remaining knightmares backed away, firing heavy slugs from their grenade launchers. Another fired Slash Harkens, the anchors flying over his head as he did the splits. He struck back with his own anchors, knocking the enemy to the ground. The remaining _Gloucester_ threw aside its Assault Rifle and came at him, Stun Tonfa extended. Rolo straightened up, bringing his _Vincent_ into a graceful pirouette, MVS twirling in its right hand. One glowing blade tore through the_ Gloucester'_s cockpit as it passed, killing the pilot instantly. Rolo slewed away, allowing the pilotless knightmare to careen into a wrecked building. Lost in a battle-trance, he did not pause, but aimed the twin autocannons on his left wrist at the two remaining _Gloucester_s. The street was wide, but not so wide that they could evade his fire, and both soon went down.

Rolo paused, his reason returning, as he looked around. Only the tank remained, stricken as it was on a heap of rubble. As he looked, he saw the hatches pop open, two figures clambering out of the tank. They fled as they saw him, scrambling up and over the rubble. One more appeared from the turret hatch, and Rolo saw him drop something inside before jumping off and down the other side of the heap.

There was a flash and a gout of flame from the hatches, then the whole tank seemed to leap up into the air and crash down again.

Rolo thought of pursuing the fleeing crewmen. But, to his surprise, he found the idea did not appeal. It seemed _wrong_ somehow, even _unworthy_.

Besides, he had no time to waste hunting them though the rubble. He had to report in.

"_Vincent_ to _Ikaruga_! I've taken out the tank!"

"Well done Rolo!" He felt a flush of pleasure at his brother's voice. "6th Squadron advance!"

"Yes sir!" A moment later, he saw friendly knightmares race past, heading down the street where the last two _Gloucester_s had been.

Then the ground shook under him, his console beeping a warning. Rolo looked behind to see a wave of dust rolling across the city towards him. He brought up the _Vincent_'s arms to cover its head as the wave washed over him. His world became grey-brown, billowing like smoke, small particles pattering off his armour.

Then it was gone. And where it had come from, Rolo could see a mass of red and yellow, black smoke billowing into the sky.

"What was _that_!"

* * *

_**The **_**Ikaruga**

On the bridge of the _Ikaruga,_ Zero watched as the horror unfolded on the ground below.

The others were watching also, shock and sadness in their eyes. Only Diethard seemed unaffected.

"Were there people down there!" Ougi came out of it first.

"There's nothing we can do," Diethard replied coldly. "We're in a battle. It happens."

"But still…!"

"We didn't start this war," Diethard raised his voice. "Britannia did. They're the ones wrecking the city, not us." Indeed, the crashed _Caerleon_ was not the only damage wrought by the battle. Columns of smoke rose from where damaged knightmares had crashed to the ground, and the streets around the Gefjun Interdictor were being rapidly reduced to rubble was the Britannian ground forces continued their offensive.

"Is that not right, Zero?" Diethard turned to his leader for confirmation. Ougi looked up at him, pain in his gentle eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ougi," Zero said, and he meant it. "I'm sorry you all had to witness this. But Diethard is right. There's nothing we can do about it now." He took a breath, steadying himself. "What's our current status!"

"Twenty-two percent losses to our airborne forces! Thirty-nine percent to our ground forces!"

"Heat sinks are redlining! Estimated shield burnout in sixty seconds!" Another volley of shots shook the _Ikaruga,_ as if to remind Zero if what that meant.

"We have to use the Hadron Cannon!" Diethard insisted.

"We can't!" Ayame called from her station. "They keep moving around too much. We can't get a clear shot!"

"_Of course we can't_," Zero thought. "_They're not going to stand still, not when they know we have it_."

"How are the Britannians doing?"

"We've pretty much wiped out their airborne _Gloucester_s, and we're holding their ground forces, at least for now. We've…wait, there goes another one!" Zero looked up to see a third _Caerleon_ begin its final descent, the _Akatsuki_s scattering away from it.

"Lock the primary railgun on that ship!" he ordered. "We have to destroy it before it hits the ground!"

"Yes sir!"

The _Ikaruga _quarter-rolled, heaving to the right to bring its ventral railgun to bear. Lightning crackled between the twin rails as the turret spun to track the falling _Caerleon_. It was not a difficult shot.

The railgun fired. Plasma flashed around the rails as a two-metre-long tungsten dart leapt out from between them. A sonic boom marked its passage as it ploughed through the air and into the dying _Caerleon_. For an instant the floatship deformed, a puckered hole growing from where the dart had hit. It looked as though the _Caerleon_ was going to collapse in on itself, as though some dire force was sucking it out of the universe.

Then it exploded with a bright flash. Smaller pieces of wreckage flew in all directions, the larger chunks dropping to the ground below.

Zero stared at the sight, momentarily enraptured.

"Keep the shield up until the last second then drop it!" he ordered. "Recall all airborne knightmares for recharging. Tell the deck to ready my _Shinkiro_!" He swept out before Diethard could protest.

* * *

The battle had entered something of a lull. Both sides pulled their mobile forces back, to recharge and rearm. The Black Knights ground forces gathered around the Gefjun Interdictor, where supplies had been left along with it. The Britannians did likewise, gathering at their drop-off points.

What happened there was much the same in both cases. The wounded were carried to the medical stations, little more than spaces covered by tarpaulin. Foot soldiers grabbed new clips, swigged water and popped stimm pills. Knightmares had their batteries replaced, and worked together to help their maimed fellows. Two would hold the damaged knightmare up, while another held the new leg in place as mechanics worked to secure it. Arms were replaced also, and even heads.

Both sides worked fast. The Black Knights weren't a pack of half-baked insurgents any more, and the Britannians were trained professionals.

But the Britannians had the advantage, for they were many. They had taken heavy losses, but so had the Black Knights. As soon as enough knightmares were ready, they began their new offensive, cautious this time, letting the infantry move along with them, picking over the rubble that had once been the EU's Capital.

The Black Knights knew that they were coming. They also knew that they were outnumbered, and that this next clash would be the last one. Nonetheless they did not despair, for they had made their choice. Dour and grim, they readied for the last battle.

Above them, the _Ikaruga_'s shields flickered and died. The air around the ship waved and distorted as the heat sinks vented, trying to cool the floatship's overheating systems.

The _Shinkiro_ stood upon the bow like a Pirate King. Inside, Zero slipped off his mask, and Lelouch fought back despair.

He had counted his knightmares as they came in. Of the eighty _Akatsuki_s that had gone out, only thirty-two had managed to return. The damage wasn't an issue, as they had parts enough to make repairs. The losses had been worse than he'd hoped, though less than he'd feared.

He felt the _Ikaruga_ rumble underneath him as another volley of shots impacted. The _Ikaruga_ was covered in state-of-the-art layered composite, fashioned by arts he barely comprehended, but he it knew it could only take so much.

His chrono read 11:47 AM. The battle had lasted just over an hour. But even now, part of him knew he was going to lose. His _Shinkiro _might be able to do some damage, but not enough. He might even get one more shot off with the Hadron cannons, but that would require the charging of the capacitors. If but one shell penetrated anywhere near them, the _Ikaruga_ would be blasted in half.

But what did that matter? They were going to die anyway.

"_What's wrong, Hideaki_?" he thought. "_Aren't you coming?_ _Didn't you understand?_"

Then he noticed that the Britannians hadn't fired again. He looked, and saw the four floatships hovering where they were, doing apparently nothing. Were they overheating too? Or were they planning to force him down?

"Lelouch." A familiar voice, over a private channel. Lelouch looked at his screen, and saw that the _Guren_ had landed nearby. He closed the other channels, leaving only the one. There were things he had to say, meant for no one else.

"Kallen," he said, hoarse. "I'm…I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," she replied, sincerely. "We gave it our all, and so did you."

"It was my plan," Lelouch insisted, black despair circling to swallow his spirit. "I've doomed us all."

"Lelouch…" Kallen paused, and it sounded to Lelouch as though she were crying. "I don't regret it Lelouch, not any of it." She let out a rueful chuckle. "Don't act so sad. You got to lose your virginity."

"No!" Lelouch protested, as his feelings burst through the darkness within him. "It wasn't like that!" He heard a gasp from Kallen. Then there was silence.

"Kallen…" No, he couldn't hold back. Not now, not when he was about to die. "Kallen…you saved me. You saved my soul. You gave me what no one else ever has, or ever will. Kallen…I…!"

"Zero!" screamed the comm speaker, making Lelouch jump. He glanced at the screen in shock, and saw that someone on the bridge had forcibly opened a channel.

"This is Zero," he replied. "What's this about!" He ignored the shrieks of rage and frustration coming from the _Guren_.

"What happened!" it was Ougi. "I've been trying to get you for two minutes now!"

"What is it?"

"Aerial contact inbound from the east!" Ayame interjected. "It's big! Very very big!" Bewildered, Lelouch looked around, wondering what it could be.

Then he saw it. And so did Kallen.

It was _vast_, around twice the size of a _Logres_. It was a great eagle, shining like gold. Articulated wings swept upwards, float units glowing on their undersides. Two enormous feet were held back under the tail. The breast swelled below, tapering up to the neck. The head, with its long, curved beak, was angled downwards, revealing a panoramic visor in place of eyes, the only anatomically incorrect feature. The air rumbled as it came, wings spread, like a true bird of prey, descending from the sky.

Lelouch stared at it, dry-mouthed.

"Holy…!" Kallen almost blasphemed. "What the _hell_ is _that_ thing!" Lelouch couldn't answer. He was awestruck.

"_Was it this that gave them hope_?" he wondered. "_Was it this that made them want to fight on?_"

"Unidentified floatship!" came an unfamiliar voice, as the _Shinkiro_'s comm system locked on to a new message. "Identify yourself in the name of the Holy Empire of Britannia!" Zero glanced at the comm, and saw that it was indeed coming from one of the Britannian floatships.

"This the EUROFORCE Floatship _Adler _to all Britannian forces," came the behemoth's reply. "You are in violation of the ceasefire! Withdraw from this airspace or we will attack!"

"This is the IBFS _Avalon_! We are engaged in the arrest of an international criminal by special permission of your President Dressler. Any interference will be considered an act of war!"

"We know of no such permission! Withdraw or you will be fired upon!"

"Mayday mayday mayday!" now it was Diethard. "This is the Black Knights Floatship _Ikaruga_!President Dressler has attempted to forcefully detain us in violation of our rights under the Manila Convention. When we attempted to defend ourselves, we were illegally fired upon by Britannian forces. We have taken heavy damage, and request immediate assistance!"

"Floatship _Adler_! Disregard that message! The Black Knights are an illegal terrorist organisation guilty of the mass-murder of Imperial citizens! They have kidnapped his Imperial Highness Prince Faramond u Britannia and are holding him prisoner aboard their vessel! Any interference in our rescue attempt will be considered not only an act of war, but deliberate endangerment of the life of an Imperial Prince!"

"_So that's why they stopped firing_," Lelouch thought.

"Floatship _Ikaruga_," came a voice that he recognized. "This is Colonel Magnus Constantian. Is their accusation true?"

"This is Zero," Lelouch interjected, his tone belying a mixture of awe and outright terror. "We have Prince Faramond in our protective custody aboard the _Ikaruga_. We have reason to believe that his life is in danger from political elements within the Empire, and have acted to ensure his safety."

Another pause. Lelouch could hear his heart beating.

Then the air around the _Adler_ shimmered blue, as if it were suddenly encased in a bubble made of stained-glass. _Adler_ had answered.

"Uh, Lelouch?" It was Kallen. "Isn't he the guy you screwed over?"

"Lets…not think about that right now." Lelouch crammed on his mask. "Orders off to all units! Hideaki has arrived! Repeat! Hideaki has arrived!"

"Hikeaki!" Kallen spluttered. "What the…!" Then it hit her.

"Hideaki!" she exclaimed, as the story flooded back to her. "Sekigahara!"

"Yes!" Zero was exultant. "All units! Prepare for immediate combat! Europe fights with us!"

**

* * *

****(Well, that took some doing. I made this chapter especially large in order to get things moving, and I hope it meets your expectations. I was a bit worried about the love-love scenes, but I decided to give them a shot. I imagine the LelouchxKallen scene will be the most controversial. I convinced myself to do it on the basis that they love one-another, even if they weren't sure at the time, and they were both very upset. Lelouch's breakdown happened for the most part because of his discovery that Suzaku and Euphemia were about to be married, and because he blames himself for Euphemia's death. As Lelouch himself states, he and Suzaku would have become brothers for real, or at least brothers-in-law. Under those circumstances, it would have been easier to convince Suzaku and Euphemia to look after Nunnally for him. There is also the fact that Kallen, whom he cares for practically to the point of love, has discovered everything he has concealed from her, leaving Lelouch with the very real possibility that she will turn her back on him. I reckoned that would shake him up, to the point where if Kallen made a move, he would not refuse. As for Kallen, well, she loved him enough to kiss him in R2, and she has less reason to be ambivalent about her feelings here than she did there. I thought her main concern would be whether her feelings were real or geass-induced, and that discovering that her feelings were her own would be a major step. Anyway, I did the best I could with it, and I hope it pleases. **

**There'll be more as soon as possible.) **


	14. The Capriciousness of Circumstance

**Chapter 14 : The Capriciousness of Circumstance**

_About sacrifice and the offering of sacrifices, sacrificial animals think quite differently from those who look on: but they have never been allowed to have their say._

_Friedrich Neitzsche _

_**Then**_

_**Karlsruhe, German Confederation, EU, 3**__**rd**__** July 2018 ATB, 10:16 AM**_

The train was an unusual sight.

It was sleek and black, like some mechanical serpent. The locomotives at each end were heavy-set, angry-looking things, covered in heavy armour plates. The five carriages were smooth and featureless, the windows covered by fine grilles. It roared and rumbled, the sound of its horn cutting through the countryside as it flashed past.

Nothing barred its path. The order had gone out, and all trains had been put on hold, and all most of their would-be passengers could do was stand on the platforms and grumble while they waited for news.

In one or two cases, they caught a glimpse of the train as it raced past, whether creeping surreptitiously along a passing-loop or rumbling through the station itself. They could only stare in surprise, wondering what on earth it could be. Many of them had a vague idea, and as such, an answer as to why they had been so inconvenienced. One or two of them may have known for absolute certain, though they were bound not to tell.

Phones were pulled out. Fingers flashed over laptop keyboards. The story of the black trains spread all over the still-free nations of the EU, though it would be some time before the story could be captured, marshalled, and distributed to the bulk of the populace.

By then, the trains would have served their purpose.

This particular train continued along the line until it was some distance south of Karlsruhe, whereupon it switched off the main line onto a freight line. It slowed, rumbling along for a few kilometres until it reached the designated point. It halted on a long, straight stretch of line, the land clear and flat all around.

For a time the train was still, as if waiting for something.

With a whine and much clunking, the roof of the middle carriage split open along the middle, sliding down behind the walls. Hatches opened in the roofs of the first and last carriages. From each rose a square turret, split open in the middle to reveal a rotary chaingun, clustered barrels gleaming in the sun. From the middle carriage rose something else. A cylinder, so long and wide that it barely fitted in the carriage, rising up on one end.

Finally it stopped, standing straight up, like some strange monument.

Inside the second carriage, men in green _Bundeswehr_ uniforms sat at control stations, screens and lights flashing in the gloom. Only their officer stood, checking his watch every so often. It was upon him that the responsibility would fall, even though he had his orders in advance.

_If in doubt, proceed._

The satellite uplink screen showed the target. An airbase, believed to be housing around one hundred Britannian combat aircraft. With a click of buttons, the coordinates were transferred into the system, imprinted indelibly upon the electronic mind that lurked within the massive cylinder. Even if it received no other orders, even if all contact was lost, it would go where it was sent.

All was ready.

The babble of voices fell silent. The soldiers turned their eyes to their officer, waiting for him to give the order. The officer only checked his watch.

Those men would not be known. They would not merit any particular mention in the roll-call of history, populated by names like Suzaku Kururugi, or Kyoshiroh Tohdoh, or Gilbert G. P. Guilford, or Magnus Constantian. The job they did was the opposite of heroism, anathema to glory, an affront to chivalry. There would be little recognition for them, and no great honour.

They did not care.

The officer glanced at his watch again, then crossed to the main control panel. The men returned their attention to their stations, making doubly, triply, _quadruply_ sure that all was in readiness. The officer checked his watch one last time, flipping up the cover on a certain button that, of all those currently present, he alone was permitted to press.

His eyes were on his watch, the black digits dancing before his eyes.

**10:20:00**

He pressed the button.

There was a hiss, followed by a harsh _whoosh_ as something leapt from the cylinder. For an instant it was visible, a slightly smaller cylinder, its end tapering to a point, its base adorned with long, triangular fins.

Then there was a roar, a sound without compare in nature, for only humans could have created such a thing. The missile soared away into the sky, grey smoke billowing behind it, marking its passage.

The roar faded, as suddenly as it had come. And the missile was only a speck in the bright blue sky.

The turrets were retracted, descending back into the darkness from whence they had come. The roofs slid shut, and within a minute the train was moving, heading back the way it had come. If all had gone well, there would be a supply train waiting just north of them on the opposite track. They would exchange the empty container for a fresh missile, then set about their work again.

The day had just begun.

But the day's work would not soon end.

_**

* * *

**_

_**Now**_

_**Brussels, EU, 3**__**rd**__** July 2018 ATB, 11:52 AM**_

_**The **_**Avalon**

Aboard the IBFS _Avalon_, Schneizel watched tight-lipped as the blue bubble shimmered into being around the intruder.

"They have given us their answer," he said, to everyone and no one in particular. "Orders off to _Magnificent_ and _Formidable_, they are to concentrate fire on the _Adler_. What is the status of our other forces?"

"Heavy losses to our airborne _Gloucesters,_" called the Tactical officer. "Deck reports all knightmares ready."

"Message from _Magnificent_ and _Formidable,_" called the Comm officer. "Orders received and understood. Airborne _Vincent Ward_s ready to launch."

"Very good. Have them intercept any enemy air units. Ground forces will engage and destroy the Interdictor, but watch out for EU ground units."

"Yes, your Highness."

"I never thought they'd actually build it," Lloyd mused.

"You know about it!" demanded Kanon. "That…thing!"

"Of _course_ I know about it!" the scientist retorted, in his customary good humour. "The same way the EU knew about our own floatship projects. I'm just surprised they actually went ahead and built the thing, considering the trouble they'd have powering it." He shot a glance towards Nina, who was staring up at the _Adler_ as if was about to dive in and claw out her eyes. "Eh Nina?"

"A nuclear reactor."

"Come again?" Cecile looked up from her station in surprise.

"A nuclear reactor," Nina repeated, unable to draw her eyes from the looming _Adler_. "It's the only way…the only way they could draw that much power."

"It makes sense," Lloyd agreed. "They've known about that sort of thing at least as long as we have." He glanced at Schneizel, who was staring straight ahead.

"But you knew that already, did you not, your Highness?"

Schneizel did not reply, but he shot an amused glance at Lloyd.

"Your Highness." The face of Aramis Custer appeared on the main screen, along with those of Suzaku Kururugi, Gino Weinberg, and Anya Earlstreim. "Should we not withdraw from the Interdictor's area of effect? If the EU has breached the ceasefire, our forces will be under attack."

"The EU has not breached the ceasefire," Schneizel replied, a vision of serenity in the chaos all around. "We received confirmation from President Dressler that he ordered the EU forces not to intervene. Those before us are obviously renegades, and we will be doing our European friends a favour by destroying them."

"Your Highness!" Aramis protested. "The risk is too grave. I _implore_ you to withdraw and seek confirmation of the situation!"

"Lord Custer, you must trust my judgement." Schneizel stared straight into Aramis Custer's eyes, his gaze unflinching. "Please believe me. I know what I am doing."

For a moment, it seemed as though Aramis would plead again. Instead he fell silent, as if stunned by those eyes.

"_Did you see it only now?_" Lloyd thought, amused. "_Did you understand only now? Did it take you this long to learn who he is? And what he plans to do? Were you really that naïve?_"

"Lady Earlstreim," Schneizel turned his attention to Anya. "I need you to use your Hadron cannon on the _Adler_. Their Lordships will protect you while you carry this out. Is that clear?"

"Clear."

_**

* * *

**_

_**The **_**Ikaruga**

Lelouch managed to calm himself.

"Bridge!" he said into the comm. "What's our status?"

"Heat sinks at fully capacity!" Ayame replied. "All systems show green!"

"How long before we can get the shields back up?"

"Engineering wants twenty minutes minimum to vent the sinks!"

Lelouch suppressed a hiss of frustration. Twenty minutes without shields was the _Ikaruga_'s path to the scrapyard. But he understood the engineers' reticence all the same. If they didn't get rid of at least _some _of the heat, he ran the risk of melting the shield projectors. While the _Ikaruga_'s point-defences could handle knightmares and missiles, there was nothing they could do about railguns or, far worse, the _Mordred_'s particle cannon.

There was nothing to do but buy twenty minutes.

"Helm! Take us up behind the _Adler_! We'll have to hide behind them until the sinks are vented."

"Yes, your Excellency."

He felt the _Ikaruga _shift, the view before him rotating as the floatship came about, the burning city falling away as they ascended. He could see the _Adler_ clearly, a great golden raptor with wings spread, enclosed in shimmering blue. He made out the glow of the float engines, also blue, along the wings and the fanning tail.

He could also see the Britannian floatships, moving low over the rooftops to flank the _Adler_. The _Avalon_ held its position, and Lelouch saw the flashes as the orange floatship opened fire with the railgun under its nose. The single remaining _Caerleon_ ascended, firing with its own railguns, but having no more apparent effect than the _Avalon_.

"Kallen," he said, turning to look at the red knightmare standing a short distance from him. "Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Kallen's face reappeared on his screen. Lelouch saw her confident smile, and the sparkle of new hope in her beautiful eyes. He felt suddenly very soft and warm at the sight, a sensation that had become familiar since the night before.

"The main threat is the _Mordred_ and the Rounds," he said, forcing himself to focus. "If Earlstreim takes out the _Adler_ we're finished. Don't let her get a shot off."

"I should stay with you," Kallen replied, cheeks reddening. "That is, I'll guard you while you use the Zero Beam."

"Kallen, I need you to go," Lelouch insisted. "I can't fire the Zero Beam in mid-air, and I'll only get one shot anyway."

For all the power of the Zero Beam, essentially Laksharta's prototype derivative of the Britannian Hadron Cannon, it was not without its drawbacks. A full-power shot would drain his Energy Filler to almost nothing, meaning he could do little but stand, aim, and fire. Worse, he hadn't managed to use it in combat, so he wasn't entirely sure it would penetrate a _Logres_' shields.

"Kallen," he said again. "Please go. I _need_ you to trust me." He stared into her eyes, and she into his.

"Live for me, my love." Her words were fervent, desperate. "If you die, I'll slaughter them till they kill me!"

For a moment, Lelouch was spellbound by her words, and the fervour behind them. He had seen something of that spirit before, in her eyes, and her words, and her deeds. He would never have believed that such a heart would be set on him. In that moment, he felt privileged above all men. In that brief moment, he was willing to believe that his life had been touched by God.

That life, he knew for sure, would never be the same again.

"If you die, Kallen, I won't live on." Lelouch touched one hand to the screen, wishing he could touch her for real. "We'll meet again…where all our loved ones are."

* * *

As he settled himself into position in the _Zangetsu'_s cockpit, Tohdoh tried to force the dark thoughts from his mind.

_She_ was up there, with Zero, even now.

He had made considerable efforts, gone to great lengths, to ascertain Zero's true identity. His suspicions had lighted upon a Britannian teenager with black hair and purple eyes, seen so many times in so many convenient places. Of course he had no evidence, but it had given him something to work with.

Could that boy be Zero?

Of course they had known from the beginning that Zero was not Japanese. Few if any in the Black Knights had not reached that conclusion sooner or later. His nationality, and other aspects of his identity, was a topic of furious debate. The two most popular theories were that he was a renegade Britannian Prince, and that he was trained EUROSEC agent.

Going on the evidence alone, the latter theory seemed the most likely. It was common knowledge that Prince Clovis' regime had been rotten with corruption, but the somewhat better informed knew that it was also riddled with agents of EUROSEC and the Veiled Pavilion, EUROSEC's Chinese counterpart. Supporting insurgencies was not the EU's usual MO, but he could see them making an exception.

But none of them knew what _he_, Kyoshiroh Tohdoh, knew.

None of them had been there, on that day eight years earlier, when a young boy had killed his own father for the sake of his country.

And for the Prince and Princess who had become his friends, and who by Genbu Kururugi's order faced death or worse.

Tohdoh felt a familiar pang of remorse as he thought of Suzaku Kururugi, the boy he had taught Kendo, and had come to love like a son. The boy who now served his country's destroyer, in an attempt to redeem himself that only one who knew him well could possibly make sense of. The boy, now a man, who waited only a few kilometres away, a knight in Britannia's service.

He had murdered his own father for Japan, and Japan repaid him with hate. It called Suzaku a traitor, Genbu Kururugi a martyr, and Kyoshiroh Tohdoh a hero. Suzaku had taken the blame for everything, for Japan's fall, and for seven years of misery and oppression. He had been called a traitor, a disgrace beside his father's noble sacrifice, a monumental disappointment.

If they knew anything, anything at all, they would blame Kyoshiroh Tohdoh.

He had been there, for all that time. He had seen what most would never see, and hear what most would never hear. He had _known_, or at least _suspected_.

And he had done nothing. Like some latter-day Hamlet he had dithered, blind and deaf to what his own eyes and ears tried to tell him, refusing to believe that Genbu Kururugi had it in him to cast down his own country.

Suzaku merely did what he, the Miracle-worker, did not have the resolve to do. Had _he _done it, and done it in time, than perhaps Japan might have been saved, and all the horror prevented.

At least, he might have saved the soul of a young boy.

And what of the other young boy, who would otherwise have died? The boy called Lelouch vi Britannia? The boy whose face Tohdoh saw whenever he looked upon that certain young man.

That certain young man went by the name of Lelouch Lamperouge. They had all learnt it one day when he strolled into a meeting behind Zero. It was Tamaki who made a fool of himself by demanding to know who the interloper was, even though he was wearing a Black Knights uniform and carrying Zero's paperwork. Zero had patiently introduced the youth as his new ADC, and no one had said anything more. For a time, Tohdoh had ticked Lelouch Lamperouge off his list of suspects.

That is, until the previous night.

Tohdoh knew enough of life and the world to know what had been going on in Zero's suite that night. Of all those who had been in the suite that night, only Lelouch and Kallen had stayed. It could not have been Zero, because Zero had come out to them some time earlier. He come to talk to his followers, to reassure them that everything was on schedule, and that they were going to succeed.

Except it wasn't Zero.

Tohdoh had no hard evidence, no meaningful proof. The Zero he had seen that night had talked like Zero, moved and even stood like Zero. He had only some instinct, some _notion, _that the Zero he had seen was false.

He knew that Zero was not always the same person. Sometimes it was CC, sometimes even Sayoko, though she was nominally in Diethard's employ. She could easily have delivered the documents to Dressler while Lelouch and Kallen were out on their date.

But even if Lelouch _wasn't_ Zero, or if in fact they were _all_ Zero, might he be that young boy with the black hair and the suspicious eyes?

It was a thought Tohdoh could not shake off, especially not since Zero had ordered his Black Knights to kidnap Prince Faramond u Britannia, the Emperor's grandson.

Zero's reasons had seemed valid. It was necessary, so he said, to kidnap the boy in order to destabilize the situation and bring about a resumption of conflict. Except it hadn't worked, because Schneizel had instead conspired with President Dressler against them.

And even _that_ had been part of Zero's plan. By tricking Dressler into breaking the rules, he damaged the Peace faction's credibility. What was more, he had lured Schneizel into entering EU airspace with military floatships, breaking the ceasefire. On top of that, he had lured Schneizel into range of the Gefjun Interdictor, preventing him from commanding or even contacting his forces elsewhere.

By all accounts, it was a brilliant plan.

But had that been the _only_ reason? Or was there in fact a Britannian Prince behind that mask, risking their lives because he was pining for his nephew?

Tohdoh didn't know. And that was the problem. He had tolerated Zero for so long because Zero had kept faith, bringing them victory after victory. It really didn't matter who he was, or who he had been, so long as he kept up his end.

But would the others see it that way?

A green light came on, drawing Tohdoh from his thoughts. He walked his _Zangetsu_ out to the centre of the hangar, turning towards the lift that would bring him up to the main catapult. He stepped his knightmare onto the plate, and felt it ascend.

Now was not the time to worry about such things, not when battle was upon him.

_**

* * *

**_

_**The **_**Adler, **_**11:58 AM. **_

"Are you certain you want to do this, Colonel sir?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Colonel Morisato," Magnus Constantian replied, zipping up the heavy white flightsuit. "I am."

"Don't bother sir," groused Doctor Siegfried Clyne, the _Adler_'s CMO. "I've made my concerns quite clear, but the Colonel not only insists on joining the battle, but on using the Angel's Vestment, which I feel it necessary to point out has not completed testing."

"The Rounds are out there." Magnus took a pair of long, gauntlet-like gloves from the locker and pulled them on, fastening them to the suit. "They've been a thorn in our side from the beginning." He looked up at them. "I need every edge I can get if I'm to stand a chance."

"And the Angel's Vestment will let you do it," proclaimed Professor Yusuf Ali, head of the research team who had created the so-called Angel's Vestment, and the Angel's Halo that preceded it. The man was in far better spirits than anyone else in the room. "This new version goes far beyond the Angel's Halo, to the point where Britannia's superconductivity advantage will be irrelevant."

"At the risk of talking to a wall, it has _not…completed…testing._" Clyne looked as if he was about to lose his temper. "I will not be held accountable if it leaves him a drooling vegetable!"

"You're exaggerating, as usual," Yusuf scoffed.

"Colonel Sir," Morisato looked straight at Magnus. "There is no need for you to fight. You are in command here."

Strictly speaking he was correct. The purpose of the _Adler_ was to carry a single EUROFORCE Brigade, which was commanded by a Lieutenant Colonel. To avoid conflict between the floatship's captain and the Brigade's Lieutenant Colonel, it was decided that in such an arrangement, a full Colonel would have overall command.

"No, Lieutenant Colonel." Morisato was certain he could see something in those colourless eyes, something that had not been there before. Was it regret?

"Sir."

"The Legion is your command now, Lieutenant Colonel," Magnus went on. "I cannot give them orders, but I cannot stay up here doing nothing either." He looked down at his gloved hand, clenching it into a fist. "If all I can do is fight, then I will fight."

Morisato knew in that moment that Magnus would not be dissuaded. He understood what was going through his head, more so than the albino realised.

"In any case, I can coordinate with you using the command interface." Magnus took the last item from inside the locker, a silver-coloured circlet that gleamed in the sterile light. He snapped off a salute, Morisato doing likewise, then stalked off through the door, followed closely by Yusuf Ali.

"_But you're wrong, Magnus Constantian,_" Morisato thought as he watched the Colonel go.

"That man," said an exasperated Clyne, "will get himself killed before too long."

"That man," Morisato retorted, "would tear his own heart out to save Europe."

"_Yes, he probably would._"

* * *

The heavy door slid open.

Magnus stepped through, into a large chamber set apart from the hangar. Standing in the centre was a knightmare frame, painted dark green. It looked vaguely like a Britannian _Vincent, _but somewhat heavier-set. Its name was _Charlemagne_, for Europe's ancient unifier, the hope of a better future.

But it was different from when he had piloted it back in the Sudan. Its arms, once stick-thin like those of Britannian knightmares, were now well-armoured and hefty. Its waist was also thick, armour skirts reaching over the tops of the legs, and its shoulders had been similarly enhanced. Looking closer, he saw a rounded cylinder set between each shoulder and the knightmare's neck, set in a mount that could move it from straight up to level.

He was more than a little surprised that the NPBs had been included. EUROFORCE was pulling out all the stops.

"Yes, that's her," Yusuf reassured him with a grin. "They let us finish up after they brought you back from Africa. We were able to add all the stuff we were working on." He gestured along the gangway, which led from the door to the knightmare's waist. Magnus followed his lead, their feet clunking on the gangway as they approached the refitted _Charlemagne_. The gantry curved around the knightmare's back, with a gap cut into it for some reason. Two technicians looked up and saluted.

"Is it ready Yuri?" Yusuf asked.

"All set sir," replied the technician. "Shall I open her up?"

"Go ahead." At that, Yuri turned to the knightmare's back, flipped up a panel, and slipped a knightmare key into a socket. One quick turn did the job, the knightmare's back opening with a clunk. The rear section, complete with the back unit and retracted wings, lowered into the gap.

"One moment sir, while we plug you in." Yuri and the other tech reached into the interior and pulled out two lengths of cable. These they attached to the suit, fitting them into sockets under the flaps covering his knees.

"Okay, climb in like normal and we'll do the rest." Magnus complied, stepping gingerly into the frame. He felt his feet touch the pedals, and the techs spooled in the loose cables. They then attached similar cables to other sockets on his suit, on his upper legs, waist, upper chest, elbows, and neck. The last cable they attached to the circlet, before fitting it onto Magnus' head, circling his brow like a crown. Yuri pressed the key into his hand, and Magnus slid it into its socket.

He turned, and felt the knightmare come online. The screen before his eyes flickered to life, showing the standby icon and the brightly-coloured bar filling as the systems booted up.

"All right!" Yusuf called encouraging from behind him. "We're locking you in. You don't actually have to do anything, so just relax. I'll talk you through from the observation gallery. Okay?"

Magnus gave him a thumbs up, and slid his arms into the manipulator arrays. He felt the frame clunk shut behind him, sealing him in darkness, the only light being the screen in front of him.

Then he realised that his heart was pounding.

"_Calm_" he thought. "_Control. Don't be afraid._" He breathed in and out, controlling his metabolism as he had been taught. He had never needed such methods before now.

Before _him._

"Can you hear me sir?" It was Yusuf over the comm.

"Affirmative," Magnus replied, the comm activating with a thought. Such was the magic of the Angel's Halo.

"Great! I need you to relax before we activate the Angel's Vestment. To be fair Clyne had a point. We need your brain activity to be stable before we do anything."

"_Calm,_" Magnus fought to control his breathing, to control his racing mind. He was not used to this. He was not used to having to control himself like this. He had never needed to before.

"_Calm. Control. Discipline._"

"Okay, that should do it," Yusuf said. "All systems show green. Hold your current state, and we activate in t-minus 5…4…3…2…1…

Magnus screamed.

His world had gone white. He could not move, could not think. No part of him would respond. But still he felt as though he was being struck by lightning, every nerve shrieking in agony, all at once.

His world went black.

He opened his eyes.

Except he didn't have eyelids. Or eyes for that matter.

He was in the bay. He looked around, his neck humming and whirring. He brought up his hands. They were metal, segmented, like those of…

"Nice, isn't it!" came a familiar voice inside his head. "Total immersion! You can move that frame like it's your own body!"

"Yusuf?" His voice sounded like he was on the other end of a phone.

"Don't worry sir, your sync rate is 92% and your brain activity's holding steady!" Magnus looked at what he realised was the observation gallery, and saw Yusuf Ali waving at him. "Just keep your mind clear, and focus on what you want it to do. It'll react to whatever you think."

Curious, Magnus wondered about his weapons. A diagram in translucent green flashed into being on the right-hand side of his field of vision. It showed what he recognized as the Paladin's Gauntlet, set onto the…_his_ right arm. It was, as the name implied, a heavy gauntlet, covering the fingers and reaching up to the elbow. In it was set a 30mm autocannon, not unlike those used by the Black Knights. But the Paladin's Gauntlet was much heavier-set, enough that Magnus could beat another knightmare into scrap without fear of damaging it.

On the left side of his vision he saw another Gauntlet, this one equipped with one of the new NPB projectors.

"Oh yeah," Yusuf called again. "We added one of the experimental Beam Sabers too. I'm not entirely sure it'll work, but now's as good a time to test it as any. Everything green?"

"All green," Magnus replied, cycling through the knightmare's systems as his mind grew accustomed to its surroundings. All was ready.

"We're opening the doors!" The heavy doors clunked open before him, revealing the wide hangar deck. Fighting down wonder and bewilderment, Magnus _walked._

And so he walked. His heavy feet clunked on the deck plates, his joints hummed and whirred. Without thinking about it, he clasped his hands behind his back, walking in his accustomed fashion, ignoring the stares from the deck crew.

The knightmares were ready. Forty of them, consisting of Byakko and Shujaku Squadrons, equipped with the new _Lupo_ knightmares. Each was shorter than a standard knightmare, about three metres tall. Like his _Charlemagne,_ they were worn rather than piloted. The digitigrade legs were broad at the top, narrowing down to wide feet, housing retracted Landspinners. A short, thick waist reached up to heavy arms either side of a broad plastron, topped by a stylized lupine head with pricked ears, a long snout, and a curved red visor in place of eyes.

They stood in ranks either side of his path. Their snouts turned to face him as he approached, striding down the middle towards the open hatch. He could _sense_ something from them, something like wonder, or perhaps disbelief.

"Colonel sir!" came a voice over the comm. "Is that you in there?"

"Yes, Captain Kobayashi, it is," Magnus replied, feeling a shiver of amusement and satisfaction. "This time, I can fight alongside you all." For a moment, there was silence, the only sound being the background hum of the _Adler_.

"Hakuoh!" Kobayashi yelled, thrusting his _Lupo_'s arm into the air.

"HAKUOH!" the other pilots did likewise, the hangar echoing with their approbation. As they chanted their battlecry, Magnus felt his amusement turn to something else, something equally unfamiliar.

Excitement. Exultation. Perhaps even…

Joy?

At his feet, the heavy doors slid open, clunking and groaning as they went. Magnus stood at the lip, staring down at the shimmering shield far below. The panes below the hatch were somewhat larger than the others, being projected from the edges. He stared down, his exultation rising.

"Hyperion to Bridge. Request launch clearance."

"Bridge to Hyperion. Clearance confirmed." The shields flickered and vanished. Magnus could see the city clearly. He could see the blasted ruins, the rubble, and the flames. He could see the flashes of gunfire, and the white lines of flying missiles. He saw the buildings fly apart in clouds of rubble.

Magnus leapt.

He felt himself falling. He could hear the wind whistling as he picked up speed, the seconds ticking away in his mind. He needed to fly. The flight unit responded, engines roaring as they came online, bearing him around and up in a graceful arc, white contrails marking his path.

Magnus gave a cry of triumph. Was this the epitome of joy? To fly through the sky as if by himself? He felt like a god, or an angel.

An angel of death.

His joy faded as he saw them coming. Twelve _Vincent Ward_s in Royal Guard purple, flying straight from the _Avalon_.

The _Avalon,_ where Schneizel was.

Schneizel the destroyer. Schneizel the liar. Schneizel the trickster. Schneizel, whose honeyed words had kept the EU divided at the critical time. Schneizel, who hurled millions to their deaths for the sake of victory.

Right there, in a white and orange floatship. Right in front of him.

And the joy was gone, replaced by something else. No less alive, no less powerful, but dark and terrible.

"White Tiger, take the left," he said, his voice sibilant with mounting aggression. "Red Phoenix, take the right. Leave these to me." He was already some distance ahead of the descending _Lupo_s, and the _Vincent Ward_s had noticed him. They banked towards him in formation, assault rifles ready.

Magnus accelerated, blazing towards the oncoming knightmares like a comet. Lines of tracer split the sky as they opened fire. Magnus rolled, over and over, moving from side to side, the deadly bullets passing him by.

"_NPB!"_ The weapon responded, the targeting reticules dancing across his vision. With a thought they slid over the nearest _Vincent Ward_, changing colour from red to green as each slotted into place. Target locked.

"_Fire!_" A thought, an instinct, an impulse. He heard the hiss of annihilated dust as the world turned momentarily white. Then his vision was clear, and he saw one of the enemy knightmares coming on, a scorched black hole disfiguring its rounded plastron. An instant later, almost too fast to register the fact, it vanished in a flash of light. The rest split apart, but kept on coming, still firing. Behind them a dozen _Gloucester_s vectored in, launching from the last _Caerleon_.

Magnus knew what was happening to him. He had seen it countless times, in countless others, but had never experienced it himself.

A roar burst from his lungs, his throat straining with the force of it. Rage overwhelmed him, silencing his reason, and driving him towards the purple knightmares. He was upon one of them in an instant, driving one heavy fist into its chest. The Paladin's Gauntlet crushed the curved plastron and drove the unfortunate knightmare back. It fell away, but Magnus was already moving, lashing out at another _Vincent Ward _that dove to challenge him, pulling the Beam Saber from its compartment. It activated with a hiss, a blade of radiant light.

He kicked, the _Charlemagne'_s leg catching the enemy's outstretched arm, batting it aside. He dived onto the _Vincent Ward_, batting the other arm aside and bringing the shining blade down in an overhead _Kara Take_ strike. The blade cut down through the head, down through the chest armour, and into the yggdrasil drive. He kicked the ruined knightmare away, watched it fall for a moment before it exploded.

He ascended with a burst from his flight unit, dodging the gunfire from the _Gloucesters_. One look showed him that he was surrounded, the _Gloucesters _on the outside and the nine remaining _Vincent Ward_s on the inside. The _Vincent Ward_s charged him, Stun Tonfa crackling, forcing him to duck and dive. He tried to break away from the swarm, only to face a wall of gunfire. He turned back, but the _Vincent Wards_ were upon him again.

Magnus felt another sensation, one he only vaguely remembered, and did not much like.

_Fear._

* * *

Lelouch saw the EU knightmares launch. He saw them swarming from the _Adler_'s belly like so many hornets, tiny black shapes against the sky. The swarm split in two, heading for the _Magnificent_ and _Formidable_ below, _Vincent Ward_s rising to meet them.

He saw movement inside the blue barrier. Focussing, he saw what appeared to be gun turrets coming to bear. Down below, the main railgun turrets of _Magnificent_ and _Formidable_ were doing likewise.

They fired. What looked like tiny spots of light leapt from the barrels, crossing the space in what seemed like an instant, striking the shields with a flash. As each one fired, the shield pane covering it winked out for a fraction of an instant, allowing the deadly projectile to pass. Zero could not help but marvel at the sight, even though he knew this was only the beginning of a long and difficult struggle.

Breaching a _Blaze Luminous_, or any modern energy shield, was tricky at the best of times. The basic idea behind all shields was the same. A shield was projected over a certain area, with a certain amount of energy running through it. Some of this was lost as heat and visible light, which was why shields could be seen, but otherwise a shield did not expend energy simply by virtue of existing. It blocked incoming attacks simply by existing as a certain amount of energy in a given place at a given time, an amount that the attack would have to exceed in that place and at that time in order to penetrate.

Not many weapons could do that. With something like a Hadron cannon, one could apply enough energy continuously to a given point to cancel out the shield. No conventional weapon, not even railguns, could put out that much energy in one shot. Kinetic weapons nonetheless brought their own problems, for even though the shield could make the projectile ricochet away or detonate, at least some of the kinetic energy would pass through the shield and into the hull.

The _Adler_'s forward guns were firing too, concentrating on the lone surviving _Caerleon_. Bright lights flashed across the sky, pattering on the emerald barrier like rain on a puddle, and Lelouch knew the clash would be short. The _Caerleon_ simply did not have the power output or heat sink capacity of a _Logres_, and it had already endured a long and hard battle.

Sure enough, the _Blaze Luminous_ flickered and died, the _Adler_'s shots pitting the green and yellow hull. Then, against all reason, the _Adler_'s upper shields suddenly winked out, giving Lelouch a clear view of the avian floatship's topside, and the gun turrets.

"_Coilguns_" he thought, noting the cylindrical barrels. It made sense. Coilguns could not match the sheer power of railguns, but required less power, and did not overheat quite so badly. It explained the rapid rate of fire, and fitted what he knew of EU doctrine. The sudden dropping of the upper shields did not surprise him one bit, for he knew what was coming.

Sure enough, he saw the small round hatches open in the golden hull. There were four of them, two to the front, two to the rear, spread out wide across the hull. Four black cylinders leapt up, one from each, smoke billowing from underneath as the missiles sped away. Then there four more, and four more, until twelve missiles were racing towards the stricken _Caerleon_. The escort's point-defence turrets emerged, opening up in a last desperate defence. Some of the missiles erupted as they were struck, but cold, unfeeling mathematics and ruthless probability made it a hopeless gesture.

The first hit blew away the main catapult. The second was on the lower float engine. For an instant nothing seemed to happen, as the missile burrowed into the hull. Then the whole section blew apart in a brilliant flash, followed an instant later by a bang that stung Lelouch's ears. The two remaining missiles tore into the main fuselage, even as the upper float engine was engulfed by its exploding twin. The _Caerleon_ seemed to wobble and ripple, like a kite on Children's Day. Then it vanished in a billowing cloud.

Even as this happened, the _Adler_'s shields had been raised again.

Flashes of light drew Lelouch's attention back to the knightmares, as they closed into combat range in the _Adler_'s vast shadow. He blinked, then keyed to zoom in.

He wasn't seeing things. There were the flashes of white light, again and again, seeming to pass between the EU and Britannian knightmares. He could also see tracer fire, with flashes and clouds of smoke marking the kills.

There seemed to be a lot more flashes on the Britannian side than the EU.

Brow furrowed, Lelouch keyed at his comm.

"Laksharta! Are you getting this!"

"I am I am!" came a cheery reply. "It looks like our European friends have something new to show off!"

"What is it!" Lelouch was in no mood for her levity. If the EU had some kind of new weapon, he wanted to know what it was and what it could do.

And how best to get his hands on it.

"I've got a still here!" Lelouch saw the message icon, clicked on it, and a still image appeared on his main screen. It showed a knightmare frame, shorter than average, with bulbous upper legs and a vaguely canine head. What truly drew his attention was the white pencil lines extending from their bulbous forearms.

"A beam weapon!" he exclaimed. "Some kind of Hadron Blaster?"

"Only in the broadest sense," Laksharta replied. "From my readings they look like neutral particle beams."

"Particle beams?" Lelouch was momentarily stunned. "They have that technology?"

"I heard of a civilian project a while back," Laksharta mused. "In which case I think I know how they did it."

"And?"

"Nothing like as powerful as Hadron weapons or the Radiant Wave Surger, but a lot simpler, and a lot less power drain. Also they can make them smaller. They probably wanted a general-deployment weapon rather than something tasty for the aces."

_That_ he could believe. The EU did not believe in heroes, at least not the way Britannia did. They wanted maximum benefit for the greatest number, and had not yet produced any pilots as capable as those who occupied Britannia's Round Table. As such, it made perfect sense to create a weapon that could be built extensively and used widely, rather than building something only an ace could use effectively.

It seemed to be working. Lelouch returned his attention to the battle, and saw that the EU knightmares seemed to be gaining an advantage over the Britannians. There were no more of the white flashes, but the smaller knightmares were darting in amongst the _Vincent Wards_, firing tracer and small missiles from their wrists. He watched in disbelief as the smaller frames dodged bursts of gunfire, darted sideways to dodge crackling Stun Tonfa, poured fire into their enemies' exposed backs.

It made no sense. How could the EU have built knightmares that could match the _Vincent Ward_ in manoeuvrability? The sheer amount of sakuradite in their systems should have made it impossible.

Unless…

It occurred to him, as he watched the swirling combat. The EU knightmares weren't outmanoeuvring the _Vincent Ward_s, not as such. It wasn't a question of the knightmares themselves.

It was the pilots. They were somehow thinking faster, reacting faster. He could see it, watching as a blue _Vincent Ward_ dived at one of the lupine knightmares, assault rifle blazing. The EU frame dodged out of the way with a burst from its flight unit, then again as the _Vincent Ward_ tried to shift its aim. Another burst, and it was passing above the _Vincent Ward_, which was only then beginning to turn. A missile leapt from the knightmare's outstretched arm, blowing the _Vincent Ward _apart.

But how could they do it? What technology would allow such a level of efficiency?

The present faded as Lelouch's mind boggled and calculated.

* * *

"What the hell is that!" Kallen snapped.

She had seen the green knightmare deploy from the _Adler_'s belly, watched in disbelief as it charged straight at the Britannians deploying from the _Avalon_ and the late Caerleon and proceeded to butcher them in short order.

"Nothing in the registry!" Chiba's voice came over the comm. "It might be their new _Charlemagne_."

"It makes no sense!" protested Urabe. "How can they build an eight-gen frame!"

"It doesn't matter!" Tohdoh interjected. "Second and Third Squadrons! Break off and attack the floatships! Zero and First Squadron, assist the ground forces! Red Lotus! Holy Swords! On me!"

"Red Lotus! Will comply!" Kallen snapped back her reply, her comm buzzing with the voices of the other pilots as they acknowledged Tohdoh's orders. She did not mind taking orders from _Kiseki-no-Tohdoh_, and she didn't much mind him ordering her squadron around.

She never felt much like a leader anyway.

She could see the melee up ahead, and knew that they would have to intervene quickly. The green knightmare had destroyed several Britannians, slicing at them with a glowing blade, but the enemy had adapted, switching to harassment tactics. One _Vincent Ward_ would challenge the green knightmare from the front, only to drop away as it came on, other _Vincent Ward_s coming in from behind. The few _Gloucesters_ to have made it off the destroyed _Caerleon_ hung back, harassing the _Charlemagne_ with gunfire. Kallen was amazed that the darting green machine had survived it for so long.

"_How is it so responsive_?" she thought. She felt a devicer's curiosity, itching to get behind the _Charlemagne_'s controls, to feel it around her, to see how it responded to _her_ touch. She smirked briefly as she thought of Laksharta, watching from aboard the _Ikaruga, _doubtless ready to give her front teeth, or perhaps even her pipe, for a sniff around the green knightmare's systems, to say nothing of that energy blade.

Enough. It was time to help that unknown pilot, that madman who charged a dozen enemies on his own.

Kallen tweaked the controls, aiming the _Guren _at the outer edge of the swarm. Her scanner screen showed the four custom _Akatsuki_ knightmares and Tohdoh's black _Zangetsu _spreading out, forming a hexagram formation. Behind them, the four squadrons of _Akatsuki_s broke away, two heading for the _Logres_', two to attack the Britannian ground forces. Her confidence grew when she saw how few Britannian icons remained on the screen. With their airborne knightmares lost, the floatships would be hard-pressed, forced to keep all their shields online. Tohdoh knew what he was doing, and so, evidently, did the Europeans.

The Britannians saw them coming, as the Black Knights brought up their arms. The twin coilguns on their right wrists blazed, while missiles leapt from their left wrists. The missiles were Laksharta's creations, essentially bomb-pumped versions of her _Guren_'s Radiant Wave Surger. Kallen remembered seeing them in China, seeing the Chinese AFVs bubble and distort before they exploded. The _Vincent Ward_s broke away, dodging the deadly missiles as Kallen knew they would. Two fell away, caught by the gunfire, wreathed in smoke and flame. The _Gloucesters_ turned their rifles on the missiles, shooting down two of them, but the other three struck, downing two _Gloucesters_ and a _Vincent Ward. _

Two of the _Vincent Wards_ came about, drawing their rifles from under their cockpits, aiming them at the oncoming _Guren._ Kallen pressed back the pedals, accelerating straight at them, firing from her knightmare's wrist and bringing back the _Fukushahado_. The enemy frames split in opposite directions, seeking to break away to either side.

But Kallen did not do what they expected.

As she passed between them, she rolled the _Guren_ on its back, aiming the jagged claw straight up at the knightmare racing overhead. The weapon was at full charge, the red and purple burst passing the gap in a fraction of an instant. The _Vincent Ward _flew straight into the beam, emerging from it a distorted mass of bubbling metal and composite, blowing up a moment later. The remaining _Vincent Ward_ turned and ascended, hoping to catch the red knightmare from behind. But Kallen was already ascending, bringing the coilgun on _Guren_'s left wrist to bear. The _Vincent Ward_ flew straight into the line of fire, bullets the size of beer bottles crushing its head and puncturing its armoured plastron, tearing into the yggdrasil drive and the battery that powered it. The _Vincent Ward_ vanished in a flash of light.

Kallen hissed in satisfaction. Like all too many Britannian knights that last one had jumped at the chance of a kill, though the manoeuvre had taken him straight into her line of fire. Well trained, but evidently not experienced.

The bout had ended as quickly as it had begun. Tohdoh and his followers had already downed the remaining _Vincent Ward_s, and were mopping up the _Gloucesters_. Kallen turned her attention to the _Charlemagne_, which was hovering rather disconsolately nearby.

She examined the frame for a moment. It was slightly shorter than most knightmares, only about three to four meters tall, generally stockier and more self-contained. It lacked the bulbous cockpit common to Britannian knightmares, and did not appear to carry any weapons. A closer look revealed the short nozzles set into the stocky forearms.

"_Those beam weapons from before_."

It was a strange design, like none Kallen had ever seen. The strangest part by far was that she couldn't see where the pilot was supposed to go. She thought it most unlikely that the knightmare was a drone, and besides, there was something almost _human _about the way it moved.

She keyed her comm.

"Red Lotus to Hyperion." No reply.

"Hey! Psycho in green! I'm talking to you!"

The head snapped round. It was like that of a _Gloucester_, but less detailed. The shallow chevron visor glowed an angry red as it regarded her.

"Hyperion to Red Lotus," came the voice of Magnus Constantian over the comm. "I'm grateful for your help, but don't presume too much of it. I have unfinished business with your boss."

"Yeah, about that…"

Kallen knew what he meant. Lelouch had told her everything the night before, as they lay together and talked…

No. Now was not the time to be thinking about that. Now was _not_ the time to think about how cutely Lelouch's bangs framed his face, or the feeling of his narrow arms around her, his skin so soft and smooth, the warmth of his…

"Listen! I'll explain later, but now we have to work together! The floatships are deadlocked, so it's up to us!"

She knew she was right. Behind them, the _Magnificent _and the _Formidable_ were exchanging fire with the _Adler,_ ascending in the hope of a clear line of fire on the _Ikaruga,_ which manoeuvred to avoid them. Kallen could see the air around the _Ikaruga_ rippling, the heat sinks still venting. She checked her clock.

Five more minutes.

"Rolo!" she keyed her comm again. "What's your situation!"

"Not looking good!" Rolo sounded harassed. "The Britannians are coming at us on three sides! We've got their advance guard pinned down but we can't manoeuvre! They'll…! Gotta go! There's a Round here!" He disconnected before Kallen could reply.

"Listen!" she snapped, returning her attention to Magnus. "I wish I could take back what happened to you, but I can't!"

She could not. And she could not tell him either. She could never tell that man, that cold, pale man, of how Lelouch truly felt about it. She could never tell him about his remorse, his regret, at the sorrow of so many inescapable crimes.

"If we don't work together, our people on the ground will get wiped out and the Gefjun Interdictor destroyed!" she went on. "In case you were wondering, the whole point was to keep Schneizel out of the loop so he can't coordinate! So will you help us or will you sulk!"

The _Charlemagne _hovered where it was. Tohdoh and his followers loomed overhead, ready to strike at one false move. Kallen felt her heart pounding, and wondered if he would attack.

"Very well."

Kallen saw something extend from the _Charlemagne_'s back. Her console beeped, informing her that the _Charlemagne _had established a datalink of some kind.

"I've ordered our ground units to help yours, along with our knightmares."

"Thanks!" Kallen sighed in relief. "We should…"

"LOOK OUT!"

Sharply-honed reflexes pressed Kallen's feet back. The _Guren _leapt backwards, the other knightmares scattering away like the pieces of a breaking glass.

A blue beam flashed through the empty air they had occupied an instant earlier. It hissed past, splashing over the _Adler_'s shields. They looked back along its path.

And there was a white knightmare, floating in midair on crimson wings.

_Lancelot_.

Kallen glanced at her scanner screen, and saw three more contacts approaching at speed. The screen rattled off their transponder codes.

_Tristan_

_Palomedes_

_Mordred_

"_Where's Bradley_?" she thought with a hiss of anger. "_Where's that butcher? Is he down there attacking Rolo?_"

"Kallen, go and help Rolo!" Tohdoh commanded. "We'll deal with them!"

"Okay!" Kallen turned and dived.

"Hey there Hideaki!" Senba called to the _Charlemagne_. "We were JSDF and JLF before we were Black Knights, so don't feel bad about fighting with us!" The _Charlemagne_ glanced up at him, then back at the oncoming Britannians.

"I'll fight," Magnus replied, reactivating the Beam Saber. "No matter who or what you are."

_**

* * *

**_

_**Brussels, 12:10 PM**_

Shinichiro Tamaki snarled an expletive, though despair was winning over rage in his heart.

He had managed to extricate himself from his escape pod, and from the Department Store lingerie section in which it had landed. He had even made his way across the rubble of the EU's Capital to the Black Knight's position. But there was little for him to do there. They had no knightmares to spare, and everyone else seemed to have a job to do. Even Diethard's people were on the ground, making sure the various journalists and camera crews got the right information. They made sure that the cameras got the best shots, of Black Knights helping the civilians to safety, of Black Knights defending the people of Brussels with their lives, of Britannians wreaking death and destruction wherever they went.

Frustrated, he had snatched up some dead man's rifle, and darted into the rubble. He had stood on a pile of wreckage and blazed away, daring the Britannians to come get some.

A hail of bullets soon made him think better of it, dropping down into cover.

He knew he wasn't particularly brave, or all that talented. He was just plain old Shinichiro Tamaki, an aspiring bureaucrat who liked to drink and talk and enjoy himself. He knew, deep in his soul, what the others thought of him. He knew well enough that whatever he might say, he was anything but Zero's best buddy.

He knew it would all end someday. The best he could have hoped for was to return to civilian life, in a Japan set free and risen anew, a Japan in which he could live his life in with dignity and satisfaction. Maybe open a Bistro.

Or he would bleed to death in a puddle with his spleen hanging out and his pockets rifled.

Even so, he had hoped to do something worthwhile. He had hoped to have made a _contribution_, so that the other Black Knights would point him out and say _that's Shinichiro Tamaki, our good comrade. _He wanted to be someone.

But there was little chance of it now. He was going to die. His only legacy would be a name on a war memorial, if he was lucky.

Then again, it could have been worse.

Tamaki checked his rifle as he heard the rumbling come closer. If this was it, better to go down fighting. He poked his head up.

And stared.

There were Britannian knightmares there, but they weren't shooting at him. They were shooting out away from him. Their targets were some green shapes approaching out of the dusty haze, firing in return.

Tamaki squinted as they got closer. They looked vaguely like _Panzer-Hummels_, or at least the torsos did. It was heavier-set, with thicker arms and legs. In place of forearms were enormous twin linear cannons, larger than what the _Panzer-Hummel _normally carried. Upon its shoulders were long missile pods, running parallel to the cockpit. This version had a single head, with a short snout, glowing red visor in place of eyes, and short, rounded ears, putting Tamaki in mind of a bear.

"_The new Panzer-Bjorn_?" he thought, remembering the intelligence brief.

Infantry in grey EUROFORCE body armour crept around the rubble, firing at the Britannian infantry. He could see other vehicles behind, these with six wheels and low-slung chassis. They fired with gun turrets or missile pods, and what looked like turreted mortars.

_Who were they?_

"Hey! You there!"

The angry yell drew Tamaki's attention to a trio of grey-armoured infantrymen standing about twenty metres away, having approached him without his notice. They were pointing rifles at him.

"Hey wait a minute!" he protested, raising his hands. "I'm on your side!"

"Who the hell are you!" one of the soldiers demanded.

Tamaki was momentarily stunned. He could have sworn the man was shouting at him in Japanese.

"I said who the hell are you!" the soldier yelled again. This time Tamaki was certain.

"I'm with the Black Knights!" he yelled back. "Are you guys Japanese!"

"JL Brigade!" one of them proclaimed with evident pride. "Europe's Japanese Legion!"

Tamaki's heart leapt.

* * *

Rolo gritted his teeth.

The knightmare standing in front of him was a monstrosity. It looked like the twisted lovechild of the _Lancelot_ and a suit of late medieval plate armour. Spikes jutted out from its elbows, shoulders, and heels. A tall blade reached up from its forehead. Even the vanes of its float engine were curved and blade-like.

The _Percival _was the work of a diseased mind, the armour of one who revelled in slaughter. The person behind the controls was either a psychotic killer or a pretentious fool.

Rolo knew which it was. He knew a great deal of Luciano Bradley, the so-called _Vampire of Britannia_, a man whose joy lay entirely in the destruction of human life. A man of profound but entirely justified arrogance, who knew that in all the Empire none but the distant, absent Emperor had any authority over him. A man who, in the sating of his bloodlust, had single-handedly wrecked Prince Schneizel's best efforts to keep the war with the EU civilized. His failure to control the bloodthirsty knight had caused much bitterness, and Britannian soldiers and civilians had suffered for it.

"So you're the one who stole the prototype!" Bradley drawled. "A good choice! So good in fact, that I chose it for my Valkyries."

Sure enough, four pink _Vincent_ knightmares stood on the rooftops in a diamond formation, surrounding them. They were the dreaded Grausam Valkyries, four female Devicers who followed Bradley into battle and obeyed his commands. Some said they enjoyed killing as much as he did.

"Valkyries!" Bradley ordered. "See to it that we are not disturbed!"

"Yes, my Lord!" chorused four female voices, the pink knightmares rocketing away.

"I'll kill you myself!" Rolo snarled.

"Oh _will_ you?"

Rolo was already leaping skyward as missiles leapt from the shield on _Percival_'s left arm. The street where he had stood vanished in a flurry of explosions. Rolo looked down, and saw the jagged shape leap from the cloud of dust, float engines glowing.

Rolo fired, filling the air with bullets, but the _Percival_ dodged them, spinning like a top as it came on, the claws on its right hand sliding around the wrist. The wrist began to rotate, spinning at such a speed that only a green glow could be seen.

Rolo had heard of the Particle Drill Lance, and had no wish to feel its touch.

He let his _Vincent _fall, dropping away as the _Percival_ boiled straight up. The knightmare halted, swiping the Drill around, barely missing _Vincent_'s head.

Rolo boosted back, away from his enemy, bringing up his wrist cannons to fire. Twin streams of tracer lanced across the open space, but once again _Percival_ dodged, slipping through the air with the grace of a dancer. The jagged hips split open, revealing the Hadron blasters hidden within. Rolo found himself dodging as they fired, glowing pulses hissing past. _Percival_ dived in on him, Drill glowing green, ready to spear his _Vincent _like a fish. Rolo gave a snarl, pressing his feet hard down. _Vincent_'s wings glowed, bearing him up and out of danger.

But Bradley was only warming up. _Percival _rolled onto its back, blasters firing up at him. Rolo jerked sideways, returning fire, but the _Percival_ just seemed to dance away, soaring up and around in a wide arc. Rolo fired as _Percival_ dived in on him, again to no avail. In desperation he fired his Rocket anchors. Bradley did likewise, the purple spikes leaping from his knightmare's shoulders to bat away the _Vincent_'s anchors. Rolo gasped when the identical spike on _Percival_'s head stabbed at him, the purple blade scoring across his chest armour. The force flung _Vincent_ away, cockpit alarms beeping and wailing. Rolo hissed in frustration and pain as the _Percival _continued its dive. The enemy was too fast and too agile to defeat at a distance.

Forcing himself to focus, he pulled the twin Maser Vibration Swords from their scabbards. As the _Percival_ came closer, he slammed them together, pommels rotating and locking, two becoming one. He forced his _Vincent _up, charging at the oncoming _Percival_. His lance caught the Drill, parrying it away with a hiss like escaping steam, the other blade scoring across _Percival_'s shield. They broke apart, _Percival_ hovering where it was for a moment, as if appraising him.

"Most don't last this long!" Bradley crowed. "You've some spirit at least!"

Rolo was in no mood for talk. With a snarl of fury he twirled his staff and leapt at the _Percival_. He charged, even as the Hadron blasters tore at his _Vincent_, knowing that his only hope was to strike straight at his enemy. His mouth opened in a scream as he got closer and closer. The _Percival_ seemed to be smirking at him.

He lashed out with the lance. _Percival'_s claw caught the blade, the shield thrusting forward to force him away.

But Rolo had his opening. He brought up his left elbow, the Needle Blazer extending as it came. If Bradley realised the threat, then it was too late. The Needle Blazer flashed, the burst of energy hurling the _Percival_ away. It tumbled end over end, falling down into the ruined city. Rolo dived after it, lance aimed for his enemy's heart, even as it righted and landed. A battlecry leapt from his throat as thrust the lance down.

Into empty ground.

Luciano Bradley had not attained his exalted rank for nothing. In the merest instant that Rolo struck, his knightmare was backing away.

Rolo stood up, as the dust blew away around him. He looked straight at _Percival_, standing in front of him. Around them was a blasted crater, that had once been a line of fine buildings. For an instant they stared eachother down.

Too late, Rolo saw the four contacts closing in. He tried to move, but found he could not. He could only turn _Vincent's _head, to see the rocket anchors pulling his arms and legs taut. They belonged to the four pink _Vincent_s, his knightmare's treacherous sisters.

"Nicely done Valkyries!" Bradley exclaimed, triumphant. "Hold him tight!"

"Yes, my Lord!"

Frantic, Rolo fired his own anchors. But Bradley slashed with his claws, cutting the cables, the heads bouncing away into the rubble.

"That was an entertaining bout! Don't be ashamed as you die!" The claws slid around the wrist, span, and glowed green as the specialized Blaze Luminous came online. _Percival_ brought up its drill, ready to finish it.

"No!" Rolo yelled, as death advanced to claim him. "Brother!"

But then _Percival_ was leaping away, a burst of black and red blasting the ground on which it had stood. Rolo felt the grip slacken as the pink _Vincent_s broke away. Terror took over, and he yanked on the controls, his _Vincent_ coming around and away. He saw one of the enemy _Vincent_s in front of him, bringing up her rifle to fire. Rolo was beyond thought, beyond restraint, as he drove the lance into the _Vincent_'s plastron, the glowing blade tearing through the pink armour and into the yggdrasil drive. He did not hesitate, but raced on by, pulling the blade out behind him. As the pink _Vincent_ exploded, his mind cleared, and he looked around to see who had delivered him.

"You okay Rolo!" called a familiar voice. Rolo glanced around, and saw the red knightmare menacing the _Percival_.

"Kallen!"

* * *

Kyoshiroh Tohdoh had known that this fight would come again.

He fought with his black sword, the _Lancelot_ with its twin blades. They had dived, struck, parried, blocked, broke apart, then charged and struck again. On and on and on they had fought, all other weapons, all others, all the world forgotten. It was a contest of the sword, a contest of pride.

"Your skills have grown Suzaku."

How strange that they, mortal enemies once master and student, could talk so in the middle of a battle? What ironies could modern technology weave?

"Do not seek to flatter me, Tohdoh-sensei." The harshness of his former student's voice pricked at his heart. "I will not permit you to ruin Prince Schneizel's efforts."

"Such a peace is Japan's doom, Suzaku!" Strike, parry, withdraw. "Do not tell me you care naught for your homeland!"

"I murdered my own father for Japan's sake!" Blow, blow, block, block, withdraw. "I have damned myself! Only by bringing peace to this world can I atone!"

"I have done you wrong, Suzaku." Tohdoh meant it, even as he lashed out with his black sword. "You did what I had not the courage to do. It is because of me that you suffer this agony."

"What do you know of agony!" Suzaku demanded, driving the _Lancelot_ in again. "What do you know of my pain!"

"It is the pain of your misplaced remorse!" Tohdoh protested, blocking the furious blows. "It is the agony of your misguided quest! You belong with us, Suzaku!"

"Never!"

To Tohdoh, it was as if his old student was pouring his anger and pain into his blows. Never had Suzaku fought so hard, and with such abandon, as he fought now.

"There is still a chance, Suzaku!" Tohdoh pleaded. "You can still come home!"

"If I had a chance, Tohdoh-sensei," Suzaku retorted bitterly, "then your revolution stole it from me! As it stole the life of the woman I loved!"

"All Euphemia offered was a pretend independence!" Tohdoh brought down his blade in an overhead _Kara Take_ strike, only to strike one of _Lancelot_'s red MVS. "All she offered was slavery cloaked in gentleness!"

"CHURL!" Suzaku roared, and Tohdoh felt his arms ache as he struggled to fend him off. "She loved every one of you! She loved those who hated her! All she wanted was to make people smile! And you _murdered _her!"

In his mind's eye, Tohdoh could see the tears in Suzaku's eyes, and the grief that poisoned his soul. He fell back, and raised his sword two-handed before him.

"Japan's people have done much wrong," he said, hardening his heart. "But it is still my beloved homeland, and I would sooner die than see it enslaved and abused again."

"Suzaku Kururugi!" he roared. "If you would deny Japan its freedom, then I will destroy you!"

"And if you would deny Princess Euphemia's dream!" Suzaku shrieked back, "I will destroy _you_!"

Meanwhile, other battles were raging in the sky. _Charlemagne_ fought _Palomedes_, the former wielding a blade of shining light. But Aramis Custer's skills were second to none, and the two could find no advantage. A little way away, the Four Holy Swords struggled to contain _Tristan_ and _Mordred_. Their teamwork was magnificent, their coordination second to none. But they faced two Knights of the Round Table, when together they might equal one. It was Lord Gino Weinberg's task to keep the foursome occupied, and this he did. In the end, they could not stop the _Mordred_ from firing its Hadron cannon.

The great black beam burst forth, lancing across the sky towards the _Adler_. The energy washed over the glowing barrier, and for an instant it seemed as though they might hold, that the _Mordred_'s frantic effort had been for nothing.

The shields collapsed.

In that very instant, the Britannian floatships reacted, shields flickering off as they fired their missiles. Dozens of white contrails filled the gap as the missiles sped towards their now-defenceless target. The end had come at last.

There was a flash, and the foremost missile detonated. Another flash, and another missile exploded. And another, and another, as the Point-Defence NPBs spat their deadly radiance. So fast were the beams that the missiles could not hope to dodge, vanishing in one explosion after another.

But against so many, and at so short a range, they could not hope to stop them all. Some of them struck, explosions flashing against the golden hull, leaving it scarred and blackened.

But the contestants in front of it did not continue their fight. They all saw that despite this apparent victory, the situation had changed.

For the _Ikaruga_ was moving.

_**

* * *

**_

_**The **_**Ikaruga, **_**12:18 PM**_

"Engineering reporting!" Hinata's voice drew Lelouch from his thoughts. "They're good to go!"

"Shields up!" he ordered, determination replacing his fear. "Charge main capacitors! Descend for an underside run on the _Formidable_! Ask the _Adler_ to concentrate fire of _Magnificent_!"

"Yes Zero!"

"_We've got a chance now_!" Lelouch clenched his fists, feeling the thrill of decision.

The _Ikaruga _turned right as it descended, passing in an arc around the _Adler's_ massive right wing, and the suspension field bearing down beneath it. Above him, the avian shape began to turn, bringing her guns to bear on the _Magnificent_.

Lelouch took the controls, lifting the _Shinkiro_ off. As he flew away, the _Ikaruga_'s shield glowed pink behind him. He aimed his knightmare down the middle, between the _Adler'_s suspension fields, heading straight for the _Magnificent_.

His heart pounded. He didn't have much time.

The floatship didn't seem to have noticed him, at least not yet. Willing his hands not to shake, he set the _Shinkiro_ down. Standing atop what remained of a large building, he could see the _Magnificent _clearly, shields flashing as the _Adler_'s coilguns pounded them.

He activated the Hadron cannon, saw that the capacitor was almost fully charged, and took aim.

* * *

Kallen snarled in frustration.

She had come down there with a view to helping out Rolo, but now she was embroiled in a fight with one of the Grausam Valkyries.

Well, it had actually been a Grausam Valkyrie and three _Vincent Ward_s of the Britannian ground contingent, who were attempting to outflank the Black Knights' position. That was why it was taking so long.

Her coilgun was out of ammunition, so she had drawn her MV knife, giving her a little extra in a melee. But the Valkyrie was a skilled pilot, despite being able to pilot a _pink_ knightmare without dying of shame. Like Rolo's her knightmare came with twin MVS, which she wielded with consummate skill.

She was also fierce, her moves aggressive. She came on at Kallen with all her strength, lashing out with her glowing blades. It was all Kallen could do, weary as she was, to hold the Valkyrie back.

The _Vincent_ lunged, blades aimed for either side of her torso. Kallen lashed out with her knife, catching one blade and driving it into the other, knocking them both to the side. The blades slid off her sloped armour, scoring it as they went. She brought up her claw, but the _Vincent _fell back out of range. She made to attack, but the pink knightmare came on again, this time one sword held in front while the other was aimed to the side. She caught the first thrust on her claw, bringing down her knife to catch the side swing. The Valkyrie bent her elbows, bringing the blades back and around. She struck again, Kallen blocked again.

Kallen felt her muscles aching, but her opponent seemed never to tire. She wondered for a moment if she was smiling in there.

Then the _Vincent_ lurched as something leapt onto its back. The knightmare reared and bucked and threw itself about, trying to dislodge its assailant. Kallen tried to get a fix on the strange black shape, but her Factsphere would not lock on.

Then it was gone, leaping away.

And the _Vincent_ blew apart.

But Kallen did not notice. Her frantic eyes had followed the shape as it landed in the rubble nearby. She could make it out clearly now, standing with its back to her. A human shape, but glossy black all over.

It turned to look at her, and Kallen started at its gaze. Its face was a featureless mask, save for a red chevron visor, not unlike those of the EU knightmares. There was no expression on that face, no eyes through which she could gaze into its soul, but Kallen could not shake the feeling that it was looking into hers.

Then it was gone.

Something moved on her screen, and Kallen saw _Shinkiro_'s icon. She glanced up to see the black and gold knightmare standing on the remains of a department store, staring up at the gleaming white shape of the _Magnificent_.

And then she saw another shape, much smaller, diving straight at the _Shinkiro_ from the other side.

Gritting her teeth, Kallen thrust back the pedals, pressing her heels down in a long-practice move. The float engines hurled the _Guren_ into the sky, aimed straight for the oncoming enemy.

All thoughts of her mysterious saviour vanished. She _had_ to keep him safe. She _had _to defend him, even if it was only for a few seconds. If she could just let him get the shot off…

The _Palomedes_ tried to dodge. She compensated, lashing out with the _Fukushahado_. _Palomedes _brought up its left arm, the Blaze Luminous catching the blow. He tried to dodge again, but Kallen was too fast, grabbing the red and silver knightmare and flinging it away.

The _Shinkiro _fired, the searing pink beam cutting through the sky. It struck the _Magnificent_, white splashing over the emerald of the shields, seeming to blend like paint.

The _Magnificent_'s ivory hull was pocked with explosions as the projectors were overwhelmed. The shields collapsed, and the last of the beam tore into the hull, passing straight through. The _Magnificent_ lurched, smoke pouring from the seared breach, rocking as the _Adler_'s coilguns stabbed at it

Then Kallen was moving again, dodging as the _Palomedes _came on. She lashed out with her claw, batting the red knightmare away. The _Palomedes_ crashed to the ground, tearing a furrow in the ground as it skidded away. Sensing victory, Kallen pressed back her pedals, lunging the _Guren_ at the stricken _Palomedes. _The red knightmare drew back its sword hand, as if to hurl its weapon as a final defiance. Kallen braced, ready to dodge.

But _Palomedes _did not throw the MVS at her.

It threw the blade sideways.

Kallen turned to watch the blade spin through the air. Time seemed to slow down as it spun end over end.

Straight into the Gefjun Disturber.

_**

* * *

**_

_**The **_**Avalon**

"The Gefjun field is dissipating!" Cecile shouted out.

"Make contact with our forces as soon as you are able," Schneizel commanded. "Apprise them of our situation."

"Yes, your Highness!" called the comm-officer.

"In the meantime, order all units to concentrate fire on the _Adler._" Schneizel gave a slight smile. "Lady Earlstreim has cleared the way for us."

"Your Highness…"

The tone of the comm-officer's voice drew the Prince's attention. When he saw the colour of the comm-officer's face, he actually looked surprised.

"What is it?"

"Your Highness," the man forced himself to speak. "There are messages coming in, from all commands. They're…under attack!"

The command went suddenly quiet.

"Put them on the main screen." Schneizel looked up as the comm-officer set frantically to work.

"Prince Schneizel!" A harassed-looking face appeared on the screen. "This is Army Group North command! We're under heavy attack by the EU forces!"

"Impossible!" Kanon blurted out. "His Highness…!" Schneizel silenced him with a raised hand.

"Report, General Saunders."

"They've overrun our positions all along the front!" the face babbled, evidently close to panic. "Their airborne forces have taken Dunkirk, Lille, and Valenciennes! Our forces are cut off!"

"Prince Schneizel!" another face appeared, almost as panic-stricken as the last one. "This is Army Group Central! We've lost Metz and Strasbourg! Enemy forces are concentrating on Montbeliard!"

"Prince Schneizel!" Yet another face. "This is Dijon command! We're under attack!"

"Army Group South reporting! We've lost Nice! Enemy forces approaching Avignon!"

"This is Air Command! Eastern sector air bases not responding!"

"Space Command reporting! Missiles incoming on all sectors!"

"Prince Schneizel! We can't hold them!"

"Your Highness! Requesting immediate orders!"

"Your Highness!"

"Prince Schneizel!"

"Your Highness!"

"Requesting immediate instructions!"

"The shadows! The shadows are…!"

"We need orders!"

The voices blended, babbling and shrieking, the pale faces undulating on the screen. All eyes turned to the Prince.

Schneizel sat where he was, silent and unmoving. It was as if he had retreated into himself. The comm-officer looked to Kanon, but he was too busy watching his Prince, eyes full of fear. He looked to Nina, who was in the midst of a panic attack, then to a bewildered Cecile, then even to Lloyd. The scientist caught his eye, gave the man a knowing look, then drew his finger across his throat. Understanding, the comm-officer shut off the link, silencing the cacophony.

And at that very instant, the _Ikaruga _opened fire. The black and red beams coalesced as they gushed forth. The _Formidable_ tried to evade, but too late, for the _Ikaruga _matched its turns, keeping the beam on target. The shields flickered and died, the remainder of the beam pouring through to scorch and melt the beleaguered _Formidible_.

The beam died, its course run. The wounded _Formidible_ lurched and listed, float engines flickering, smoke pouring from melted rents in the once pristine white hull.

The _Adler _launched its missiles. With most of its turrets destroyed, the _Magnificent _had no defence, and no time to manoeuvre.

The missiles struck, tearing and gouging at the stricken _Logres_, until finally it came apart, vanishing in a ball of light like a new-born sun. Comets of blazing, white-hot wreckage shot away all around it, crashing down into the burning city.

A volley of missiles flew at the _Formidible_, and might have done likewise were it not for those of its turrets still functional, and frantic efforts by the _Avalon_. Still some of them hit, and the _Formidable_ was wreathed in smoke and flame. Only by some miracle, and its crew's desperate efforts, did it remain aloft.

In the blink of an eye, all had turned against them.

"Withdraw."

The word was barely audible, but in the silence it was as loud as a thunderclap.

"Your Highness?"

"We will withdraw," Schneizel said more loudly, opening his eyes. "We have lost this battle. Recall all remaining knightmares, and order _Formidable_ to follow on."

The bridge crew set about their tasks, ignoring the despair that hung over them.

"Your Highness!" called the comm-officer. "Communication from _Formidable_! It's Colonel Stern!"

"On screen!"

Sure enough, on the main screen was the thin face of Colonel Isidor Stern. Blood ran from a wound under his hairline, and the scene behind him was of smoke and chaos.

"Your Highness, we are losing power," he said, his voice hoarse. "You must go on without us."

Silence fell again, as all eyes turned to the Prince.

"Colonel Stern…I cannot just leave you."

"You must!" the Colonel protested. "Your Highness! You must escape!"

"I have failed you, Colonel Stern," Schneizel replied, a strange and sincere anguish in his tone. "I have failed all of you. I cannot leave you to die for my mistakes."

"Your Highness! We understand!" There was something in Isidor Stern's eyes in that instant, something that spoke of a pain beyond measure, and a terrible knowledge of something inescapable agony. "We all understand! That is why we followed you! And that is why you must live on! You are Britannia's last hope! Without you, all is dead!"

"Colonel…"

"You have borne the agony for all our people, my Prince. You have suffered for our sins, and grieved for what must be done. Let us relieve your burden this once, even if we have to die."

Silence.

"Go with honour, Isidor Stern," Schneizel whispered. "Your name shall live forevermore."

"Thank you, your Highness." Stern bowed his head, and the screen winked out.

* * *

On the ground, Kallen stood over the fallen _Palomedes_, _Fukushahado_ aimed at its pitted and gouged torso.

"Finish it," came a hoarse voice from the _Palomedes_. "It is…a fair kill."

For a moment Kallen did nothing, staring down at the fallen knight.

"No" she said, lowering her claw. "I'm not a murderer, and neither are you." She extended _Guren_'s left hand. "On your feet. You're my prisoner, and your frame is my trophy."

The _Palomedes_ did nothing for a few moments, then, rather gingery, took _Guren's_ hand, allowing itself to be pulled upright.

A shadow fell across them. Instinct kicked in, and Kallen flung her knightmare back. The _Percival _slammed into the ground where she had been standing, throwing up a cloud of dust.

"I didn't waste my time when I came here!" hooted Luciano Bradley, as the _Percival _stood up. "Stand back Custard! This one's mine!"

"Monster!" Kallen thrust her _Fukushahado_ forward, talons hooking for _Percival_'s plastron. _Percival_ darted, quick as lightning, thrusting its shield straight at the _Fukushahado_ and lashing out with the quad-claw. Kallen brought up her left arm in a desperate parry, the purple blades gouging through the crimson armour. The arm dropped limp in a shower of sparks. Kallen activated the _Fukushahado,_ the deadly microwaves warping the shield.

Percival dropped back, releasing the shield, the purple claws sliding into position and spinning. Before Kallen could react, the Particle Drill Lance burrowed into _Guren's_ plastron. It was all Kallen could do to break sideways, the glowing drill missing the yggdrasil drive by the tiniest fraction. _Guren_ lurched backwards, sliding off the drill and collapsing to the ground.

Kallen shrieked in fear and frustration, jabbing frantically at her console. But nothing was working. The yggdrasil drive was intact, but the energizer directly below it had been totalled, along with the power couplings to the legs. Her _Guren_ was crippled.

"Now, _Crimson Princess_," Bradley oiled, relishing the nickname she hated. "The coup-de-grace!"

Kallen felt her stomach clench as the _Percival _raised a clawed hand to strike. She had always known that she might die, that such was the fate of soldiers. But there and then, with that smirking beast gloating over her, she realised that she didn't want to die.

"_Lelouch,_" she thought, his face drifting into her mind's eyes, soothing her.

"No!"

The voice cut through her despair. She blinked, wondering who had spoken. She glanced at her comm interface, and realised it was still on.

"What!" Bradley snapped, turning to see _Palomedes_ standing behind him.

"Don't kill her!" Aramis ordered. "She is defenceless!"

"She's an _Eleven_!" Bradley sneered. "And an _enemy_! She's _my _kill!"

"She spared my life! We owe her honour and mercy!"

"Why? Did she spare you because she found you so pitiful!" Bradley turned away from Custer in disgust, readying for the kill. "Spout your chivalric nonsense somewhere else!"

"No Bradley!" Kallen's mouth dropped open as _Palomedes_ grabbed _Percival_, staying its hand. "This is an act of murder!"

"Murder!" Bradley roared. "_This_ is an act of murder!" In a flash he spun around, driving his spinning claws into _Palomedes_' chest. Kallen heard herself scream as the armoured plastron crumpled, the drill wrenching its way through. _Palomedes _shuddered, slumped, and fell to the ground.

"Poor Custard," Bradley said airily. "But he got his wish in the end. He died with honour, the morbid fool."

"You monster!" Kallen shrieked, wrenching at the dead controls in a fit of rage.

"Monster?" Bradley feigned offence. "I am merely the truth of battle, _Crimson Princess._" He paused a moment. Kallen could not have known it, but his Energy Filler was dangerously low. Without another word he lifted off, his two surviving Valkyries falling in beside him.

"Kallen!" Rolo's voice cut through her rage. "Kallen!"

"Rolo!" Kallen saw the red and gold face of Rolo's _Vincent _looking down at her. "Where's Lelouch!"

"It's okay, the others are taking him back!" Kallen felt a shudder as the _Vincent_ put its hands under _Guren'_s armpits, pulling the stricken knightmare up. "He said to come get you."

Kallen could not bring herself to say anything. She merely slumped, physically and emotionally exhausted, as Rolo bore her to safety.

* * *

Magnus watched in grim satisfaction as the _Adler_'s guns blazed at the crippled _Formidable. _The mighty bird was scorched and blackened, but her first battle had been an undeniable victory. Were it not for the _Mordred_, she could have taken the Britannians on her own. So his pride told him.

A strange feeling, but a pleasant one. To feel that his work had served some greater purpose, that he had contributed, however insignificantly, to eventual victory.

"_Adler_ to Hyperion." The familiar voice of Ichijo Morisato drew him from his thoughts. "Britannian ground forces are falling back. Shall we deploy the _Gamelon_s?"

"Deploy them, Lieutenant Colonel," he replied, excitement cutting through his tiredness. "Run them down. Don't let them consolidate."

"Yes Colonel!"

He watched as tiny shapes dropped from the _Adler_'s underside hatches. They screamed as they moved, tiny darts whistling through the sky, dropping down upon the already suffering Britannians.

The _Gamelon_ jetbike was the product of a warped imagination, a bizarre outgrowth of contemporary knightmare technology. It was in essence little more than a giant float engine, fitted with armour and weapons, straddled by a single rider. Its pilots were daredevils, maniacs one and all, men and women for whom death was something that happened to other people.

They came on, engines howling, slipstream whistling around them. Britannian soldiers looked up and saw them, long and narrow, short wings fanning out at the rear. They raced down the ruined streets, machine guns chattering, bullets churning up the rubble, gunning down soldiers caught in the open. The Britannians returned fire, but the jetbikes were too fast, gone before they could get a fix on them. Some of them fired _Mercury_ MANPADS at the knightmares, the missiles swift and agile, blasting apart the _Gloucesters_ and _Vincent Wards_ even as they tried to dodge. A few hunted the Britannian tanks, releasing _Mjolnir_ ATGMs against them.

But their true weapon was not their firepower. It was their presence, the sheer disruption they caused. Britannian soldiers and knightmares, trying in desperation to bring them down, did not notice the enemy soldiers, knightmares, and vehicles swarming over and around the rubble towards them. Leaving the exhausted Black Knights safe behind them, the JL Brigade advanced.

* * *

Suzaku glanced frantically here and there, ignoring the babbling voices on the comm, and the increasingly insistent recall signal.

Aramis Custer was down. His friend, his oath-brother, was in danger.

He looked down another street, this one parallel to the square in which the Black Knights had positioned the Gefjun Interdictor, the buildings separating them having been flattened in the fighting.

There, lying broken on the cratered street, was _Palomedes_.

"Lord Custer!" he yelled over the loudspeaker, racing to his friend's side. He knelt the _Lancelot _and tore the fallen knightmare's cockpit open. Aramis looked up at him, face pale, blood bright on his chest.

Suzaku snatched at his key and hit the door control. Not waiting for the cable, he leapt from his seat as it emerged, dropping onto _Lancelot'_s shoulder, then to its knee, ignoring the jarring in his legs.

"Lord Custer!"

"Sir Suzaku," Aramis' voice was hoarse. "You must…leave me. It's too late."

"Who did this!" Suzaku demanded, feeling tears prick his eyes. "Did _she _do this!"

"No," Aramis coughed, blood bubbling over his lips. "It was…Bradley."

"Bradley?" Suzaku felt his blood run cold. "But…"

"Sir Suzaku, I have seen…a doom, upon us all." Aramis' eyes gleamed. "Darkness is upon me…and upon Britannia…I have seen it."

"Aramis…"

"Sir Suzaku…" Aramis held out a trembling hand. Suzaku grasped it, as if doing so might keep him alive, though he knew that nothing could save him now.

"Don't…let Bradley win…Sir Suzaku." His voice was barely audible, his breathing shallower and shallower. "Don't let the monsters…win."

The gleam faded from his eyes.

Suzaku lifted his friend's body from the cockpit, took a moment to wrap the blue cloak of the Knight of Seven around it, then laid it on _Lancelot_'s open hand. As the knightmare lifted off, a volley of shots from the VARIS blew the _Palomedes_ into a shower of scrap metal. The EU would find no treasure there.

This last favour done, Suzaku turned to the retreating _Avalon_, and bore his friend's body safe away.

To his right, the _Formidable_ exploded.

_**

* * *

**_

_**Brussels National Airport, 14:30 PM**_

The airport was the only part of the city with enough room for both the _Adler_ and the _Ikaruga_ to land.

Just over ten kilometres northeast of Brussels, the airport was designed to deal with both zeppelins and regular aircraft. It also contained plenty of open space, against the possibility of crash landings.

The _Adler_ was parked in that open space. It sat on its enormous feet, wings lowered for balance, seeming to loom over everything. Behind it, to the south east, a pall of grey smoke hung over Brussels, testimony to the destruction wrought there.

The _Ikaruga_ sat further in, close to one of the terminal buildings. Zero stood at the foot of the exit ramp, flanked by his chief followers, as an Airport Security car approached. As the car pulled up, two figures climbed out. One was blatantly Magnus Constantian, his white hair and pasty complexion a dead giveaway. The other was an older man, clad in a business suit, with hair that was greying and slightly wavy.

"Foreign Minister Gandolfy," Zero greeted the man, bowing his head. "I am grateful that you would speak with me at such short notice."

"Short notice indeed." Gandolfy spoke to him in English, with a slight Italian accent, his manner revealing little of his true feelings.

"And, Colonel Constantian." Zero faltered, struggling with his remorse. "I…I can only apologise for what was done to you. I had no desire to betray you to Dressler, but nor did I have any choice." He bowed his head.

For a time, Magnus did not reply. His face was expressionless, but only by dint of great effort. Inside him terrible, unfamiliar emotions roiled like a storm-wracked sea. He felt anger at Zero, a sense of having been violated. He felt a desire to violate Zero in return, to attack him, to strangle the life out of him, to destroy him.

Destroy the threat.

Zero had marked him, crippled him. Zero had inflicted that mental command on him, preventing him from using _Quiescence, _forcing him to endure those feelings.

He did not like those feelings. They were a dark presence, a canker in his being, undermining his reason, railing against his will.

He had seen this before. He had seen it again, sealed in his quarters aboard the _Adler_, his mind overwhelmed by unleashed emotion. He remembered his most distant childhood, in the sterile darkness of a Juvenile Care Facility.

_Darkness, the lights flickering._

_Grown-ups walk in the corridors, their faces washed-out, expressionless_

_A keening cry, from somewhere unseen._

_Toys, brittle, broken, the paint flaking off._

_The smell of urine._

_Smiling men. Smiling women. Leading by the hand._

"_You're a clever boy, and clever boys don't belong in that place."_

He remembered his time at the Colasour Institute, where everything was bright and clean, full of children who talked and laughed and played.

And argued and lied and fought and screamed and cried.

_Smiling face. Happy face._

"_Come and play!" _

_Soft hand, warm hand. Take my hand, follow on._

"_Everyone! I brought Magnus! Now we've got enough!"_

_Wide eyes. Staring eyes. _

"_He looks funny."_

"_He's white all over."_

"_SHHH! Don't say that! It's dis-grim-shun!"_

"_What's dis-grim-shun?"_

"_I don't know but Mama said we mustn't"_

Emotions were bad. The smiling men had told him so. They had told him so when they gave him his medicine, and told him how to take it. They had warned him of how emotions would deny his reason, driving him to do things he should not do. People lied to each other, hurt each other, killed each other, because they could not control their emotions.

His studies had confirmed the truth of it. Countless lives destroyed, a continent in flames, all because of human emotions.

Emotions that drove him to destroy the man in front of him. Emotions that Zero had forced him to feel. To destroy Zero in rage, in revenge, was to hand him his final victory, even if in death.

And what other harm might it do? What might he wreak, what might he undo, for the sake of a moment's satisfaction?

"There is no point in my holding a grudge, Zero."

Slowly, tentatively, both men held out their hands. They clasped, shook, and all assembled breathed a sigh of relief.

"Also, I wanted to congratulate you on the success of Operation Halo Dawn," Zero went on, relishing what he was about to relate. "I received word just as we were landing. Your forces have taken Dijon, Amiens and Rheims."

In truth, Gandolfy and Magnus had received reports too, at about the same time. The air commands claimed to have achieved supremacy over northern and eastern France. The few Britannian fighters to make it airborne were fighting hard, but were being worn down, and their remaining bases were imperilled, either by missiles or advancing ground forces. To the north, the Britannians had been split by three salients, and General Forstchen had been killed. To the south, French, Italian, and Austro-Hungarian mountain troops had secured the Alpine passes and tunnels, allowing regular units to pass through.

The British, Dutch, Danish, Free French, and Free Spanish fleets were engaging the Britannian Carrier-Battlegroups in the Atlantic and the Bay of Biscay, supported by land-based fighter-bombers launched from Britain. With the land-based Britannian fighters struggling for their lives, the supersonic bombers based in Scotland and Iceland were also free to join the battle. The Greek and Italian fleets, along with aircraft and missiles based in Italy, Sicily, Sardinia and Corsica, were turning the Western Mediterranean into a shooting gallery, with the Turkish fleet moving up in support. The Eastern front was also going according to plan, the Free Russian forces aiming straight for Saint Petersburg, the Polish and Ukrainian forces advancing in concert to the south.

So long as the Britannians didn't pull something out of a hat, there might just be a victory.

"Colonel Constantian has certainly proved his worth," he said conversationally. "With any luck, we'll have them out of western Europe within the next few weeks." He narrowed his eyes. "That _was_ your intent, wasn't it?"

"In part, Minister."

"What do you want, Zero? Putting aside personal desires, what does the Lord Regent of Japan desire?"

"Cooperation," Zero replied, with minimal hesitation. "A military alliance for the purpose of defeating Britannia and establishing peace in the world. I also want an end to your pointless hostilities with the Chinese Empire, with negotiations to be held as soon as practicable. In the meantime, we need the EU to provide us with aid in the form of weapons and humanitarian supplies."

"Hmm," Gandolfy mused. "An alliance goes without saying at this point, and the _pointless hostilities_ as you describe them aren't all that deep-rooted. But what sort of weapons did you have in mind?"

"We have an extensive list. But we primarily require defensive systems, namely theatre SAMs, anti-ship missiles, radar, and C4C equipment."

"That could be difficult." Gandolfy gave Zero a dubious look. "The War Council won't take kindly to requests for charity, not of our latest military technology and not now."

"No charity will be necessary!" Zero proclaimed, raising his voice so as to be certain that all could hear him. "What is your largest ship capable of carrying sakuradite?"

"If I recall correctly, the _Skaggerak _at 160,000 tons."

"Send her to us, and we will fill her, free of charge." Zero lowered his tone, suddenly serious. "This I offer, in expiation for the wrongs we have done here."

There was silence for a time.

"A fine gesture," Gandolfy said eventually. "But you do not need to worry about your image in Europe. Anyone watching the news broadcasts now will see your Black Knights protecting helpless civilians from the depredations of murderous Britannians. I must say you could not have done better if you'd planned it." The Minister cocked a questioning eyebrow. "Or did you?"

"No!" Zero blurted out, causing a ruffle of uncertainty among those watching. Gandolfy's eyebrow rose a little higher.

"I mean to say," Zero regained his poise. "I had no desire to harm the innocent."

"I'm sure you did not, your Excellency. Incidentally, Ambassador Daidouji and his wife are waiting in the Terminal. They seem to think you have their daughter. Do you?"

"I must confess that I do, Minister." Zero sounded sheepish. "Her Ladyship was kind enough to assist me in the rescue of Prince Faramond."

"Then be so kind as to send them both out." Gandolfy was suddenly serious. "I wish to see them."

A quick command sent Rolo dashing up the ramp. He returned a few moments later, accompanied by the requested pair. The assembled Black Knights parted to let them pass, Faramond and Tomoyo advancing hand-in-hand, as if entering the Imperial Court. So dignified were they, that some of their erstwhile captors saluted or bowed in reflex.

"Your Highness, Your Ladyship." Gandolfy bowed low. "I am most relieved to see you both alive and unharmed." Magnus snapped off a salute.

"I thank you Minister," Faramond replied. Behind his mask, Lelouch could only stare in disbelief. This was not the pathologically shy nephew he had known only a few hours earlier.

Was it because of _her_?

"I was hoping that his Excellency would permit me to speak with my parents," Tomoyo spoke up, her voice high and clear. "I'm sure they have misunderstood the situation."

"I'm sure they have, your Ladyship." Gandolfy shot Zero a dubious glance. "If you please, your Excellency."

With a pounding heart, Zero allowed himself to be escorted to the Terminal building. With Kallen at his side, he strode through the open door into one of the ground floor departure lounges. The only occupants were Ambassador Masakado Daidouji and his wife, Sonomi Daidouji. The Ambassador's face was expressionless, while his wife's was a picture of barely-contained fury.

"Ambassador, Madame," Zero bowed. "I am relieved that you are both unhurt."

"Let's cut to the chase," Sonomi snapped, before her husband could open his mouth. "What have you done with my daughter?"

"Madame, your daughter is entirely safe." Zero tried not to appear half as intimidated as he felt.

"So you say!" Sonomi's eyes flashed, fixing him with a gaze that could have reduced grown men to gibbering wrecks. "Yet you forced her to take part in your kidnapping of Prince Faramond, and exposed her to further danger by keeping her on your ship! What have you to say to that!"

"Ambassador, Madam," Zero sighed. "I can only offer you my word that I meant your daughter no harm. I involved her because she alone could help me."

"And what is the value of your word!" Sonomi's countenance shifted back to anger. "You came here to seek our cooperation, and you kidnapped our daughter! Are we to trust you after such a deed!"

"It's the least you can do!" Kallen snapped. "After everything he's done for all of us!"

There was a frigid silence. Sonomi turned her gaze upon Kallen, who did not flinch.

"And what," she said, her tone as cold as the grave, "do you mean by that?"

"I mean," Kallen barked, "while you people were living it up here in Europe, _we_ were fighting and starving and dying!"

"Fighting and starving and dying?" Sonomi mocked. "You? Kallen Stadtfeld? You who went home to your Britannian father and his comfortable home after every mission? You, young lady, are a hypocrite!"

"Maybe I am!" Kallen shrieked, enraged that Sonomi would mention the double life that caused her such anguish. "But the biggest hypocrite in here is _you_!"

"Kallen please!" Zero pleaded.

"No Zero! I'm not going to stand here and let her talk about you that way!" She turned her gaze back to Sonomi, eyes blazing.

"Oh yes," she hissed. "We know. We know what you did. We know about Angelic Layer."

Masakado glanced at his wife, whose face had turned the colour of porcelain.

"You see, I know a few things about knightmares," Kallen explained. "I saw the way the EU's new knightmares performed, and I wondered how they could be so damn fast. Their reaction speeds were a lot higher than they should be. Britannia does it by packing neat sakuradite in there, but we all know the EU would never do that. So, the only answer was a new and more efficient control mechanism." Kallen smirked. "I'm sure you can fill in the rest."

A nerve in Sonomi's cheek twitched.

"I had no choice," she said.

"Didn't you?" Kallen sounded dubious.

"The Militarization Initiative was to include my company and its subsidiaries" Sonomi snarled. "My factories, that now make toys, would have been turned over to making _weapons_!"

"Weapons to fight Britannia!" Kallen retorted.

"Don't try that on with me!" Sonomi's eyes blazed. "I've lost more to Britannia than you could possibly realise! But my company is my life's work, and my only legacy."

"So?"

"I threatened to fight them in the courts, but they wouldn't back down. Then EUROFORCE came to me with a suggestion. They offered to obtain an exemption for my company in return for full disclosure of the Angelic Layer technology. At the time I saw no other option, so I acquiesced, and they kept their word."

"Really," Kallen drawled. "So to keep your hands clean you turned a children's toy into a control system for knightmares. Pretty neat."

"Technology is merely knowledge!" Sonomi retorted. "And knowledge by its very nature cannot be controlled! It was going to happen sooner or later!"

"Okaa-sama!"

All eyes turned to the main door, where Tomoyo Daidouji stood. Her doll-like face wore a look of shocked concern.

"T…Tomoyo…" The colour drained from Sonomi's face. "I…"

"Okaa-sama," Tomoyo strode over to Sonomi. Zero and Kallen both tensed, fearing what was to come.

Instead, Tomoyo embraced her.

"Okaa-sama, don't blame yourself," Tomoyo soothed. "I never did."

"You knew?"

"Of course I knew," Tomoyo looked her mother in the eyes and smiled. "I saw what that decision was doing to you, and to Otou-sama. I could never blame you for it, not for trying to protect me."

"Tomoyo…" Sonomi breathed, overcome.

"Madam," Zero managed to speak. "I was not my intent to condemn you or your husband." He managed a smile. "You may despise yourself madam, but in time, they will call you one of the saviours of Europe."

"Despise myself?" Sonomi laughed ruefully. "I cannot admit to that. In truth, I'm almost proud of it."

"You are?" Kallen cocked an eyebrow.

"Britannia keeps boasting that technology made for war is better than technology made for peace," Sonomi explained. "Angelic Layer was made as a toy, nothing more, yet it became a technology that Britannia cannot match." She gave Zero a meaningful look.

"If you mean to expose me, then go ahead. Vindication shall be my comfort."

"I will not expose you, Madam," Zero replied, with all sincerity. "I cannot, not after all that I have done."

"Very well." Masakado eyed him. "What will you do now, Zero?"

"I will return to Japan, just as soon as the _Ikaruga_ has been repaired and restocked." Zero paused for a moment, readying the bombshell.

"Also, I would like it if Tomoyo-oujo-sama would accompany us."

"Oh would you?" Sonomi shot him a humourless smile, arms around her daughter. "No chance."

"Okaa-sama," Tomoyo interjected. "I _want_ to go." Sonomi stared at her in disbelief.

"But…"

"Okaa-sama, I helped his Excellency because I wanted to." She paused, blushing. "I wanted to see Faramond again." She looked up at her father.

"Otou-sama, I want to go, because I want to see Japan, and I want to help you properly."

"It may be dangerous, Tomoyo," Masakado replied sternly. "Are you certain?"

"Don't worry Otou-sama," Tomoyo beamed. "I'll sing for you again on a happier day."

"_A code_," Zero thought. "_But what does it mean?_"

_**

* * *

**_

_**In a place unknown…**_

It was a city in a cavern.

The buildings were tall and oblong, cut from the living rock. Most covered the floor; others perched on the walls, as if having sprouted from them like creepers. At the centre of the floor was an open space, surrounded by pillars that curved inward and up towards a massive stalagmite, from which similar pillars hung down. It glowed an eerie purple in the stygian darkness, bathing the metropolis in a weird, unnatural light.

Looking down upon the city was what appeared to be young boy. His hair was pale gold, cascading down past his feet to pool on the floor behind him. His eyes were an otherworldly purple, not unlike that of the light illuminating the city. There was a mild, indulgent smile on his face.

"I have called you here to give you your orders," he said in a child's voice, addressing the four women behind him, all clad in the uniforms of the Geass Directorate. "Schneizel has managed to screw up his mission, and the EU and Britannia are once again at war."

"Might it be a problem, Director VV?" asked one of the women, the tall one with the long black hair and the piercing eyes.

"Not really, Sancia." VV turned to face them, regarding them for a moment. He cast his eyes over the shorter pair, one with pale skin and long hair, the other darker-skinned with short hair, and then the taller pair, consisting of Sancia and…_that_ one.

"The EU are a bunch of blind materialists." VV sounded almost sympathetic. "So jaded by the lies of this world that they cannot conceive of anything beyond what they can see and touch. Of all of them, only the Furiae and their King are a threat. But for now," his eyes sparkled, "they have plenty to do."

"Of course, Director," Sancia smiled. "They _are_ mindless killers, after all."

"One issue has arisen though," he kept his eyes on _her_, the one on the end, with the black hair cut very short. "He has also managed to lose Faramond to Zero." The woman's face did not move, but VV noted the flicker in her eyes with satisfaction.

"You want us to get him back?" Sancia asked.

"Precisely. You'll leave tomorrow, with one of our new operatives. Just to be blunt, I want Faramond alive…and _unsullied_."

"Director, what of Zero? If we simply take Faramond from him, he _will_ come after us. We should use the opportunity to destroy him too."

"No, Sancia." VV smirked. "He has much still to do. Besides, if he were to come after us, CC would almost certainly be with him. We can't miss a chance like that."

"You are certain, Director?"

"CC knows more about us than anyone outside of our ranks. He cannot attack us, or even find us, without her help."

"As you say, Director. Incidentally, how is the Maiden?"

"She's…coping," VV smiled at the mention. "The children adore her, and she seems to find them a comfort. But it won't do to keep her cooped up here much longer. She needs to serve her purpose."

"Will it be much longer, Director?"

"Not much longer," VV assured them. "That will be all." They bowed, and left the chamber.

"It is not necessary for them to accompany me, Lord VV," came a slightly petulant voice from the shadows.

"I disagree," VV replied, quite unperturbed. "_She_ will be especially useful. She can sense any Geass, while you may cancel any Geass."

"By the power you gave me, Lord VV." The figure that stepped into the light was a tall, lean young man. He was dressed in the manner of a Britannian aristocrat, with a knee-length white coat edged in gold covering a maroon shirt and white trousers. A lilac cravat hung at his throat. His face had a tapering chin, and was topped with blue-green hair parted on the right. The left eye was a milky white lens, set into a faceplate the colour of burnished copper, fashioned like a bird's spread wing, the narrow leg and hooked talons curving down to his cheekbone. The right eye was of the same colour, staring out from under a narrow eyebrow. There was madness in that eye, a madness that VV knew well.

"So don't let it bother you, okay?"

"I won't, Lord VV," the man smiled a very wide and disconcerting smile.

"I, Jeremiah Gottwald, will fulfil your expectations."

**

* * *

**

**That was a very long chapter. I only hope its enough to make up for the delay.**

**Regarding my poll, I've decided to continue with this fic for the time being. I won't be in a position to plan the rewrite until I've seen the new Gaiden, which will hopefully include lots of canon info on the EU. In the meantime, I hope you'll forgive me letting my imagination run wild with the EU mecha. I had a lot of fun, and thought the EU deserved its own selection. **

**I should probably explain the Angelic Layer connection. In CLAMP's anime and manga Angelic Layer, the players control small dolls via headsets that read and interpret their thoughts, moving the dolls on an arena dubbed a 'layer' hence the title. I reckoned that if they could make Barbie or Action Man-sized dolls move by such means, then it shouldn't be so hard to drive a vehicle that way. The difficulty with the game itself is that the player's thoughts have to be remotely transmitted to the Angel while it is on the layer, in a manner that allows it to move freely. This would not be an issue for a direct connection to a vehicle the wearer already occupies. **

**I will also point out that I did not stoop so low as to lift the game's backstory from Angelic Layer itself. In that case, the game was originally developed as prosthetic for multiple sclerosis suffers, being turned into a game as a source of research funds. For this fanfic, Angelic Layer was developed purely as a toy. **

**And yes, Orange is in the house, at long last. **


	15. The Perniciousness of Conscience

**Chapter 15: The Perniciousness of Conscience**

_Whoever has witnessed another's ideal becomes his inexorable judge and, as it were, his evil conscience._

_Friedrich Neitzsche _

_**Tokyo, Capital of Japan, 6**__**th**__** July 2018 ATB**_

It was a beautiful morning.

The sky was clear, the sun warm and bright. Water trickled in the artificial streams, and the trees and bushes were in full bloom. To walk through Ashford Academy on such a day, one might almost think the Black Rebellion had never happened.

But they couldn't really forget it.

So thought Alice, the girl with the dark blonde hair, tied in pigtails, and eyes that had seen too much.

She supposed she had no reason to complain. She got to live in a place as nice as Ashford Academy, with real buildings, and green space, and all the best facilities. She got three meals a day, which was more than most of Japan's Britannian population could hope for, and she was still getting an education. Of sorts.

She could even walk the streets of Tokyo.

She would quite safe. The knee-length pink gymslip, and the short pink necktie with the gold fleur-de-lys emblem of Ashford Academy, was protection in itself. The Japanese thought kindly of the Academy and its students. Their gates had been open to Britannian and Japanese alike even during the occupation, and now around half the students were Japanese. The worst she could generally expect were she to walk Tokyo's streets was a hungry gaze. Whether it was the gymslip, the pigtails, or both, Alice did not know, and did not care to find out.

But she could not enjoy her surroundings, not the way she once did. For all of its beauty, and familiarity, Ashford Academy seemed an empty, lonely place.

"_Nunnally…_"

She could barely turn her head without seeing something that put her in mind of her lost friend. The balcony, on which they sat and talked. The paths and cloisters along which they walked so many times, on so many different days. The green lawns on which they had rested, the sun on their faces. It all reminded her of the girl in a wheelchair, who had changed her life.

Alice strode on, shaking her head to drive the unwanted melancholy away. Morning classes would begin in twenty minutes, and she didn't want to be late.

And that was weird in itself. They were trapped in the Capital of a hostile state, surrounded by people as likely to kill them as look at them, and yet they still had classes nine till four, Monday to Friday. It was probably to take everyone's minds off things.

And with Milly Ashford still in charge, there was never a shortage of distractions.

She continued along the path, approaching the Academy's main building, a symbol of the Ashford family's pride. It was grand, even palatial, a place of learning that encouraged its students to dream magnificent dreams. Compared to the concentration camps, or the slum that was the Britannian Quarter, it was a paradise.

As she followed the ornamental stream, she saw in the corner of her eye someone else in the pink gymslip, this one noticeable in that she was standing still. Curious, Alice turned her gaze fully on the other girl, who was looking mournfully out over the city. Her curiosity turned quickly to distaste.

She wasn't entirely sure what to think about Ekaterina Sforza. They were not happy thoughts, for too much ill-feeling had passed between them for that. The girl with the long blonde hair and enough snobbery for the entire Imperial court was not someone Alice would ever think of as a friend. She was not someone _anyone_ in their class would think of as a friend. Her closest approximations had been those two toadies of hers, whose names Alice could not be bothered to remember. With her nameless minions to back her up, Ekaterina had made it her business to make life unbearable for anyone she happened to take a dislike to. Especially Nunnally, whom Ekaterina treated with special contempt. Alice suspected that it was down to jealousy, for where Ekaterina was of high birth and low popularity, Nunnally was the opposite.

"_Nunnally…_"

Just about everyone had loved Nunnally. She was just so sweet, with a kind word for anyone and everyone. Alice knew that better than most, even if she never knew who Nunnally really was.

Not until she had taken matters into her own hands, and discovered the truth for herself.

Alice regarded Ekaterina for a while, and was surprised by the air of loneliness about the other girl, something she had never seen before. Then again it was no surprise. Ekaterina's two flunkies had disappeared, and even her high-and-mighty family had upped sticks and left her to her fate. Alice could almost feel sorry for her, for since the disappearance of Nunnally, her first real friend, she had learnt the true nature of loneliness.

Then Ekaterina turned on her heel and stalked off, her usual air returning with a vengeance. Alice gave a world-weary sigh, and continued to the classroom.

The classroom itself was, like the rest of the Academy, pretty much as it had always been. About the only thing that had really changed was the people inside it.

Alice could see it clearly as she walked in, returning the casual greetings her classmates sent her way. The uniforms were the same, pink gymslips for the girls and high-collared black jackets and trousers for the boys, but the girls and boys wearing them had changed, in that around half of them were Japanese. They were the new arrivals, brought into the school as a sign that Ashford Academy was under the new regime's protection.

Alice didn't have a problem with them, and as far as she could tell none of the other kids in her class did either. She was Alice to the Britannians, and _Arisu-chan_ to the Japanese. Funnily enough, the Britannian kids had started using the Japanese suffixes too.

She took her seat, with a few moments to spare before the morning bell. Ekaterina stalked in last of all. No one greeted her. The bell rang, and a moment later the door slid open.

"Stand!" called Satomi Sasaki, the current Class Representative. All leapt to their feet as Miss Denning, one of the Britannian teachers still on the payroll, strode in.

"Bow!" All bowed at the waist as Miss Denning reached her desk. Alice was not sure whose idea it was for the Academy to adopt that particular custom, but few if any had bothered to question it.

"Be seated, everyone." The atmosphere eased noticeably as the students took their seats and Miss Denning took up position beside her desk. She had a trim figure, red hair in a fashionable short style, and dark eyes that gave her an air of easy confidence and perpetual amusement.

"Something a bit different for you all this morning," she said. "We have two new students joining us."

This caused quite a stir. New students invariably would, but under the Academy's current circumstances it was completely unexpected.

"All right, you can come in." The door slid open again, and the newcomers entered.

The first was a young girl of about Alice's own age, with long black hair and a finely-shaped, almost doll-like face. Her eyes were a vivid blue, aimed just slightly downward, making her demure without being servile. She held her school-issue satchel in front with both hands, adding to the effect. There were gasps and breaths of delight from boys and girls alike.

It was the second newcomer who got Alice's attention.

"_Nunnally?_"

It wasn't Nunnally though. Not only could she not walk, she also never wore a boy's uniform, not even during the innumerable cross-dressing events organized by the Student Council. Also, the hair was too short, and the eyes were the wrong colour.

Apart from anything else, the newcomer was a boy, albeit a pretty one.

"I am Tomoyo Daidouji" the girl introduced herself in English, bowing demurely. "I'm so happy to meet you all."

"I am…" the boy made an _almost_ imperceptible pause, "Faramond Lamperouge." He bowed also.

"Now does anyone have any questions?" Miss Denning asked. Several hands immediately shot up.

"Hey, uh, Faramond?" a girl Alice didn't know well asked, a little uncertainly as if she wasn't sure she was pronouncing his name right. "Are you related to Nunnally Lamperouge?"

"I am?" the pretty boy replied, with another _almost_ imperceptible pause. "She is my cousin." His answer provoked another round of gasps.

"Do you know where she is?" the girl pressed. The rest of the class all stared at Faramond expectantly.

"_So_," Alice thought, a little gratified. "_They were worried about her too_."

"She's in Britannia at the moment," Faramond answered. "She asked me to say hello to you all, and that she hopes she can come back some time soon." There was a ripple of happiness through the class. Alice glanced around, curious as to how Ekaterina was taking this.

She was staring at Faramond, head cupped in her hands, her facial expression implying that her brain had floated away on a pink cloud.

"_Uh oh._"

* * *

From the top of the Black Knights HQ, Kallen Kozuki stared out over the city, trying to clear her mind.

Silver towers dominated the immediate view, surrounding the former occupation headquarters and spreading out over the city centre. Unlike those of the former _Towkyow_ Settlement, these towers had their foundations in the ground. An artificial plateau, upon which Britannian settlements were generally built, was considered impracticable under the circumstances. The towers of Akasaka and Shinbashi had been completed, and were even then being occupied and prepared by the administrators and businessmen who would operate out of them.

There were apartment buildings too, some of them as tall as the skyscrapers nearby. Some were complete, but others were still surrounded by scaffolding, the crews working as fast as safety would allow. There were still countless people in need of somewhere to live in the ruined city.

And out there in the bay, far beyond Odaiba but still visible, was the mountainous silhouette that was the Glacier Fortress _Tiashan_.

The sight had once given her hope, and pride. It felt good to see Japan's Capital rise from the ashes, to become a marvel to the world once again. And with the monolithic _Tiashan_ out in the bay, as far in as its draft would allow, she could feel confident that Britannia would not attack.

But it did not distract her the way it once had. She had too much on her mind.

Part of it what she was going to do with herself. The mission was over, and a success. Britannia was now too busy to think of invading Japan, good relations had been established with the Chinese Federation, and the same would soon follow with the EU. Japan was at peace, and rebuilding.

So what was she supposed to do now?

She had always known that it would have to end someday. But she had always assumed that it would be in a hail of bullets. But the Black Knights had won, and Japan was free. In the movies, or in anime, the heroes would help rebuild once the fighting was over, and for a while she'd assumed that she would do likewise.

Except that she really didn't know how to help with the rebuilding. She had literally woken up one morning and realised that all she knew how to do was fight.

She knew what Lelouch would say. Kallen suspected that, deep in his heart, he wanted to go back to Ashford Academy, and for her to do likewise. Sure, he had complained about it often enough. He had complained about his Student Council responsibilities, about gym classes, and the interminable cross-dressing events. But Kallen knew somehow that he been happy there, at least for a time.

It didn't sound so bad, being an ordinary High School student, with Lelouch. They would hold hands, eat their lunches from matching bento, steal kisses at every opportunity, yearn for the bell to ring so they could be together again. Then they would eat dinner together, with Faramond and Tomoyo.

And that was a funny thing. Normally when one had a very valuable hostage, he would be kept in some isolated, secure place. Yet Lelouch had decided not to go with the normal procedure. Instead, he had sent them both to Ashford Academy, where anyone could see them.

Then again, the campus was fairly self-contained, so it was fairly unlikely that anyone from the outside would see him. What was more, he hadn't debuted yet, so no one outside of the Imperial court would know who he was. There was no particular reason why anyone would take an interest in him. He would just be Faramond Lamperouge, just another Britannian.

Of course, Diethard had a team keeping tabs on him at all times, just to be on the safe side. And those OSI idiots down in the water tunnels weren't a threat either. They still hadn't figured out that a bunch of _Elevens_ was listening in on their communications to and from Britannia. Kallen knew for a fact that they didn't know Faramond was there, for if they did, they would have sent word and requested orders. And if they ever did, Diethard's people would know long before they would be in a position to do anything.

She still wasn't sure why Lelouch had insisted on leaving the two of them in Milly's care. She wondered if it was because Lelouch wanted his nephew to see something of the life he had lived, to taste the freedom he had discovered.

Kallen neither liked nor disliked Faramond. Strictly speaking she was supposed to hate him with every fibre of her being, him being a Prince of Britannia and all that. On the other hand he was Lelouch's beloved nephew, whom he seemed to care for almost as much as he cared for his sister Nunnally, so she should probably try to be nice. What was more, Tomoyo seemed to adore him, for reasons best known to herself.

It wasn't that there was anything particularly _wrong_ with Faramond, he just wasn't her type. Personality-wise he came across as a male Nunnally. He was polite, well-spoken, and with a slight air of nervousness and vulnerability about him. The fact that he looked a bit like her made it even worse, and Lelouch's decision to send him to Ashford Academy even more inexplicable. Faramond would be lucky if Milly only made him wear a cat costume.

But there was something else, something more immediate, and more chilling.

"Are you moping again?"

_That_ voice. That voice that still had the power to drive her to distraction. At least she didn't smell of pizza today.

"I'm not moping," Kallen retorted, turning to face CC. "I'm _thinking_."

"Of course you are," CC said sarcastically. "Incidentally, Lelouch is done with those idiots from the Ministry of Education, so he wants to see you."

"Did he say what for?" Kallen asked, a little too quickly.

"No." CC leered. "Perhaps he'd like some entertainment." Kallen glowered at her words.

"You've got a dirty mind, you know that?"

"Not as dirty as yours." CC turned on her heel and sashayed towards the stairwell.

"Wait!" Kallen called after her. "I've got something I want to ask you!" CC paused, and half-turned to regard her.

"Do you really?"

"The living shadows!" Kallen went on. "Who are they!" CC cocked an eyebrow.

"And how would I know that?"

"You were the leader of the Order, weren't you!" Kallen demanded. "You know all about the Geass, and the people who have it! So you know who they are!" CC paused for a moment, then turned to face her directly.

"I'll admit I was the Director, for a while." The green-haired girl examined her fingernails. "But I never really had any power, and they didn't tell me everything, which is why I left."

"Don't mess me around!" Kallen's eyes flashed with frustration. "I heard the Britannians over the comm! I heard them _dying_, screaming about living shadows and death from the darkness! You can't tell me you don't know _anything_ about that!"

"You're assuming an awful lot," CC retorted, still looking at her nails. "Perhaps you happened to actually _see_ one of them?"

"It just so happens that I did!" Kallen paused, remembering what she had seen. "A man, in some kind of black armour, that my Factsphere wouldn't lock on to. He managed to jump on a _Vincent, _plant a bomb, and jump off again before it exploded. We're not talking everyday spec-ops here!" After a pause, which Kallen suspected CC was drawing out to annoy her, the immortal girl looked up, looking her in the eyes.

"If they are what I think they are, then I don't know much about them." She turned and began to walk away again.

"Then what _do_ you know!" Kallen yelled, half-demanding, half-pleading.

"I know that they're called the Furiae," CC replied, pausing to glance back at her. "And that the Order is terrified of them." She stalked off.

"_Furiae_," Kallen thought. "_Who are they? What are they?_"

She only knew that she had to find out. She _had_ to know who that man was. That man, who might not be a man. That man who had haunted her ever since the battle.

That man, who had saved her life.

_**

* * *

**_

_**IBFS **_**Avalon, **_**Casablanca Settlement, Area 17, 6**__**th**__** July 2010 ATB.**_

The lights were low and muted.

In the centre of the chamber was a dais, on which was laid a plain, military-issue coffin. A Britannian flag, gold and crimson, white and blue, was draped over it in the traditional manner. Over it was laid the blue cloak, and on it the sword, of the Round Table's Seventh Knight. By tradition, both would accompany their bearer home, to bear witness to his interment, before being passed to another.

Two Guardsmen of Prince Schneizel's Regiment of Foot Guards, resplendent in dark red, kept vigil at the coffin's head and foot, heads bowed in reverence. And on the floor before it knelt three mourners, bidding Aramis Custer farewell.

Suzaku Kururugi knelt in the middle, head lowered. To his right knelt Lady Anya Earlstreim, the Sixth Knight, head also lowered, but face as expressionless as usual. To his left knelt Lord Gino Weinberg, the Third Knight. By contrast, Gino was a picture of sorrow. He was maintaining a dignified front for the time being, but Suzaku knew well what the young knight was going through.

He could sense Gino's grief, like a dark presence looming over him, pressing in on him. It was as if Gino's soul was subconsciously reaching for him, burrowing through his defences, seeking to drown him in its darkness.

And that was not the only burden he had to bear.

_Bradley. _

The Tenth Knight had not done as they were doing. In fact, he had not acknowledged Aramis Custer's death at all. He had simply left at the first opportunity, taking his two surviving Valkyries with him.

His observances complete, Suzaku stood up, his two companions doing likewise. They bowed their heads, turned, and left the chamber. They paused a moment in the brightly-lit corridor as the door slid shut behind them.

"Poor Custard," Gino said, trying and failing to sound cheerful. "Then again, I think he wanted to die in battle. Poor neurotic fool." Suzaku said nothing, and neither did Anya. Gino sniffed, and cuffed at his eye.

"Suzaku, we're friends, aren't we?" He looked at Suzaku with eyes full of pain.

"I…would not dare presume so, Lord Weinberg."

"Don't give me that." Gino was still wearing that strange, sad smile, but there was now an air of frustration in his tone. "I might be a Knight of the Round Table, but I've always thought of you as a friend. Can't you do the same for me?"

"I…have thought of you as a friend, Gino."

"The thing is…" Gino trailed off, and swallowed the lump in his throat. "You were with him when he died. What did he say?" Suzaku felt his stomach knot at the question. As much as he might want to, as much as it tore at his soul, he dared not reveal the truth, for he knew what the consequences would be.

"He said, to say goodbye to you, Gino." There was silence. Gino sighed a very uncharacteristic sigh.

"So you're going to lie to me, is that it?"

"Gino…"

"Tell me the truth, damn you!" And in an instant, the sorrow was replaced with rage. Incandescent, furious, the anger of one who could not bear any more sadness. Gino's eyes flashed, and for an instant Suzaku thought he would attack him.

"Gino…" It was all Suzaku could do to remain calm in the face of the tempest. "If I were to reveal the truth, it would bring you only sorrow."

"All I've got right now is sorrow!" Gino snapped, unimpressed. "So tell me!"

"First I must have your word." Suzaku fixed Gino with his gaze, his eyes dark and unyielding. "Will you swear to follow my counsel, when I tell you the truth?" Gino stared back at him, and Suzaku half expected him to refuse.

"I swear it."

"It was Bradley."

Gino opened his mouth as if to reply, but no words came out. The colour drained from his face, as fear and hatred warred within him.

"It can't be," Gino muttered. "He wouldn't…even _he_ wouldn't…"

"He would," Anya said mildly. Gino looked at the floor, shivering a little, sweat shimmering on his brow as he tried to make sense of it.

Then he let out a howl of fury, slamming his fist into the bulkhead, hard enough to dent the decorative panel.

"I'll kill him!" he roared. "I'll hunt him down and…!"

"You'll do nothing of the kind."

Gino was about to turn his rage on Suzaku, until he realised that he had not spoken. All three knights looked to see Kanon Maldini standing in the corridor, regarding them with cold appraisal.

"Maldini," Gino hissed. "This isn't your business!"

"This is my Prince's ship, and my Prince's business," Kanon replied. "And I take care of my Prince's business."

"Yeah," Gino said nastily, leering. "You do, don't you." If Kanon saw the meaning behind his words, he made no show of it.

"Lord Weinberg, I understand the situation you are in. But you are in no position to take on Lord Bradley."

"That's what you say!" Gino retorted, throwing back his cloak. "I'm a Knight of the Round Table, chosen to pilot the _Tristan_! I can take him!"

"If you fight Bradley, you will die in battle," Kanon replied. "If you murder him, you will die a traitor. If you accuse him, you will be humiliated, and he will probably kill you anyway."

"Gino," Suzaku touched his shoulder. "You'll do Lord Aramis no justice by dying for nothing."

"Then what do I do?" Gino griped, half-protesting, half-pleading. "I can't let it go! Not after all that Bradley's done!"

"Lord Bradley has a great deal to answer for," Kanon interjected. "But you must allow his Highness to handle this. His Highness will grant you justice, I promise you that."

"Justice!" Gino gave a bitter snort. "He can't give me justice. Bradley's a Knight of the Round Table. He can't be touched."

"There are ways, Lord Weinberg," Kanon insisted. "There are always ways, and my Prince knows well how to find them. Be assured, Bradley will be dealt with."

"Please, Gino," Suzaku pleaded. "Remember your promise. This is for the best." Gino looked uncertain for a few moments, then nodded.

"Sir Suzaku," Kanon said. "His Highness requests you attend upon him presently. There are matters he wishes to discuss." Suzaku patted Gino's shoulder, and watched for a moment as Anya led him away. Then he followed Kanon to Schneizel's office.

As the door slid open, the first thing he noticed was the screen set into the wall behind the Prince's desk. It was active, showing a map of France, showing the current dispositions of Britannian and EU forces. Suzaku noticed, with some disappointment, that the EU forces had taken Limoges, via an inland salient from La Rochelle. Judging by the red smears across the map, France's entire channel and Atlantic coast was in EU hands, with a major thrust heading straight for Paris, and another in the process of taking Troyes. Yet another was reaching down the Rhone valley, having been halted only at Lyon. The aircraft-shaped icons over the Alps and the Massif Central barely did justice to the desperate battles Suzaku knew were taking place even then.

It was bad. Very bad.

As the blue splotches covering northern France indicated, there was still a lot of territory at least theoretically in Britannian hands. But the fall of Limoges meant that the one clear path between northern and southern France was cut off. The airspace was contested, and French partisans and _Chasseurs Alpins_ were between them keeping the mountain passages blocked. The fall of Amiens, Reims, Nancy, and Metz on the first day had been a terrible blow, denying the Britannian forces their supplies. Suzaku didn't know how long those remaining in northern France could hold out, but it could not be long.

It seemed so unbelievable. For so long he had thought the armies of Britannia unstoppable. But even as he stood there, staring up at the screen, they were being thrown back.

"Ah, Sir Suzaku." The high-backed chair swivelled round, revealing the oblong face with the lilac eyes he knew so well.

"Your Highness." Suzaku stood to attention before Prince Schneizel's wide desk. Kanon stepped past him, taking up his accustomed place at Schneizel's side.

"I never had the opportunity before," the Prince said, his face bearing its standard expression of benign calm. "I would like to offer my condolences regarding Lord Custer. I understand he was a friend of yours."

"Thank you, your Highness." Suzaku bowed. He felt a sting in his heart at the mention of Aramis Custer, the man he had for a brief time called a true friend.

"Lord Custer was a brave knight, and a noble young man," Schneizel went on, his voice sincere. "His loss diminishes us all." He gave Suzaku what might have been a meaningful look.

"But there is urgent business." Schneizel's countenance took a turn for the serious. "I'm sure you are aware of out situation?"

"We are being defeated, your Highness." Suzaku saw no reason to quibble. "Our forces in northern France are cut off with supplies running low, and the Mediterranean supply lines are being interdicted. As matters stand, the situation in France will become untenable within a week."

"Concise as usual, Sir Suzaku," Schneizel said approvingly. "Though I fear the situation is actually worse than you have been led to believe. Our northern forces are indeed cut off, and their supplies will have run out by now. Our aerial presence in the south is rapidly degrading, to the point where it can no longer prevent full-scale air attacks on Lyon." Schneizel touched a button on his desk console, and the screen zoomed in on the area between Limoges and Bordeaux.

"I have ordered the fifty divisions evacuated from Spain to gather at Bordeaux, along with the remaining units there, coming to twenty usable divisions. Those seventy divisions will launch a full-scale counter-attack between Limoges and La Rochelle via Angoulême. They are our last realistic chance to save the situation, or else to open up a line of retreat for our remaining forces in the north." Schneizel touched another button, and the map shifted again, this time to western Russia. Long red arrows stretched out from Finland, Poland, Belarus, and the Ukraine, reaching into a Russia that had only a few days earlier been friendly territory.

'Friendly,' which in this case meant territory in which no one was actually shooting at them. Suzaku seriously doubted that ordinary Russians had been happy that a faction of their government had elected to cooperate with Britannia. For Schneizel this had not been a problem, so long as they weren't actively interfering.

"As you can see, the situation is as bad in Russia as it is in France." Another shift of the map, moving to Africa and the Middle East. The main focus was Egypt, with red arrows reaching in from the Sinai and the Sudan. "Also, the EU's middle-eastern allies have seen fit to make their move, along with the EU's own forces and numerous African exile units. They have secured the Suez canal and are in the process of overrunning the rest of the country."

"Your Highness." Suzaku drew himself up. "Please allow me to transfer to Bordeaux and join the attack. I may be able to tip the balance."

"No, Sir Suzaku."

"But your Highness…!"

"If you return to the front, Sir Suzaku, you will die." Schneizel's tone brooked no argument. "It is my impression that you wish to die in battle, but I cannot allow it. You are too valuable to me."

His words took Suzaku by surprise.

"Your Highness?"

"You despise yourself unjustly, Sir Suzaku," Schneizel went on. "Your abilities alone make you valuable to me, but your sorrows even more so." He paused, as if choosing his words. "Your sorrows give you a rare understanding of the suffering that exists in this world. It is possible that you, like others who follow me, understand the measures I must take."

"Measures, your Highness?"

"The military situation is dire, Sir Suzaku, but the political is far worse. I gambled much of my political capital on the negotiations with the EU, and the wreck is total. No doubt you have been wondering where Nina is."

"Yes, your Highness."

"Nina is on her way to Dallas" Schneizel replied. "I dare not transmit my instructions while the OSI has control of the Caer Myddin facility. I cannot be certain that they would understand." The Prince gazed straight into Suzaku's eyes.

"I wonder if _you_ understand, Sir Suzaku Kururugi."

"I understand many things, your Highness." Suzaku kept his gaze level. "But I cannot understand as you understand."

"Then allow me to illustrate my understanding." Schneizel's characteristic smile did not so much as flicker, but Suzaku sensed a change nonetheless. It was subtle, unclear, but unmistakably a change. It was the most he had ever sensed from the man.

"As you know, we have six months, a year at the most, before Britannia's sakuradite stockpile runs out." He paused a moment, letting it sink in. "To make matters worse, the EU now has Japan on their side, meaning that while our sakuradite stocks dwindle, theirs will fill to overflowing. We have also failed to cut off their supplies of other strategic raw materials, including rare minerals and petrochemicals. Can you tell me what the result will be, Sir Suzaku?"

"So long as Zero keeps up the sakuradite supply," Suzaku replied, trying not to grit his teeth, "the EU will be able to out-produce us."

He had known all of it, and he knew what it all meant. Britannia was about to be kicked out of Europe, and returning was going to get more and more difficult as time went on. The losses to break through the Santiago and Ural defence lines had been quite appalling, and the Europeans would be repairing and re-manning those defences at the first opportunity.

He was frustrated. He was _enraged_.

From the beginning, Suzaku felt as though he had been carrying the whole campaign on his shoulders. Schneizel's tactics had been reckless as they were ruthless, focussed on breaking the EU's morale, and there were many occasions where it seemed like his own efforts were all that prevented costly defeat, let alone victory.

Even Cecile had thought so. She had told him, on that dreadful day, when they found that little girl…

Suzaku had never taken any pride in his victories. He had grown to respect his European opponents for their courage, which bordered on the fanatical at times. But that respect was tinged with sadness, with shame. If they would stop fighting, if they would only lay down their weapons and walk away, then none of it would have to happen. They could all live. Their families and loved ones could live.

They could live to see their countries burn. They could live to be herded into ghettoes, and to sweat out their lives for a pittance. They could live to see their children's futures destroyed, their minds numbed with narcotics, their rage satiated with blood and bombs.

He had known they would never surrender.

That was what made him sorrowful. That was what made him weep bitter tears. But that was not what made him _angry._

"It's all _his_ fault!" The words just came out, before he realized he was saying them.

"Sir Suzaku?" Schneizel looked at him expectantly.

"Your Highness…" Suzaku felt tears of frustration prick at his eyes as he strained to control himself, staring down at the floor.

"Sir Suzaku," the Prince said, in very kind way. "If there is something you want to say to me, then please say it."

"It's all Zero's fault!" The dam broke. "He's ruined everything! You came to make peace, and he ruined everything! He doesn't care! He doesn't give a damn!"

Kanon was eyeing him with suspicion, but Schneizel's face was entirely calm, bearing a look of almost fatherly goodwill.

"All those men!" Suzaku went on, his voice hoarse. "All the suffering! All the sacrifice! Because of him…" He broke off, unable to say any more.

"Zero has a great deal to answer for," Schneizel said, after a long pause. "But it is I who must take responsibility. It was I who ordered the troops into battle. It was I who had them attack, again and again and again, whether for a scrap of ground or a few precious hours. I ignored the Generals, who thought my strategies reckless. It was my inaction that allowed Zero to roam unchecked, and now my nephew in his hands because of it. It was my weakness in the face of the Senate's demands that dragged out the negotiations. Had I dealt with the Nativists and their allies more firmly, then Zero would have achieved nothing. I alone am to blame."

"No, your Highness." Suzaku's voice was hoarse and croaking, so much so that it could barely be heard. He cleared his throat as Schneizel regarded him with mild surprise.

"Your Highness…did everything for the sake of peace." Suzaku managed to raise his head, looking at his Prince with red eyes. "They all understand. Colonel Stern understood." He gulped. "I understand."

"Yes," Schneizel replied. "I believe you do. As such I can afford to tell you that all is not yet lost."

"It isn't?"

"No, it isn't." Schneizel smiled that particular smile he used when he knew something that others didn't. "There is one last option open to me, thanks in part to President Dressler managing to provide _one_ of the items I requested before his untimely demise. To mark your advance in the circles of my confidence, I will tell you that this was all data relating to EUROMED's latest research in the finer applications of stem cells."

That caught Suzaku's attention. Stem cells were only one of many weapons in the arsenal of modern medicine, but easily one of the most significant. Serious, even life-threatening injuries could be rapidly healed, damaged tissue replaced, new organs acclimatized.

It was, he thought sourly, the only reason Mao had survived that little encounter at Clovisland, all those months ago.

"I will not be able to implement this option for a few months," Schneizel went on. "What I have in mind is rather delicate, and I cannot afford to take risks in that regard. There is also the question of timing. I must, unfortunately, allow this crisis to develop if my next move is to be in any way effective. Over the coming months the public will become increasingly aware of the sakuradite shortages, and the guilty parties will seek to push the blame onto me in order to protect themselves. Fortunately my associates have gathered sufficient evidence of their guilt, which will be made available to the media at the appropriate time."

"Which would discredit your Highness' enemies," Suzaku concluded, "allowing your Highness to be the saviour."

"Indeed," Schneizel seemed pleased by his understanding.

"Also," Suzaku continued, unbidden. "If the plan is unsuccessful, then the Senate will be in no position to oppose your backup plan." He gave the Prince a meaningful look. Kanon looked unsettled, but Schneizel kept on smiling.

"It seems you understand me well, Sir Suzaku Kururugi. And therefore I must understand you." There was _something_ in his eyes, something that made Suzaku think of Aramis' dying moments.

"Does your understanding displease you, Sir Suzaku?" Suzaku did not reply straight away. He knew that if he answered yes, he would not walk out of that chamber alive. If Prince Schneizel wanted him dead, he would be dead, Geass or no.

And he would not much mind.

"Your Highness," he said, having made up his mind. "As you said, this cannot go on. You must do what you think is right, for Britannia, and for all humanity. It's…what Euphie would have wanted."

For what felt like an eternity, Schneizel did not reply. Suzaku stood where he was, wondering what method the Prince had devised for his dispatch. He hoped it would not be Kanon, for he did not want to kill that loyal, good-natured young man. But if Kanon drew a weapon, or did something remotely construable as hostile, then the curse Zero laid on him would take effect.

Then again, Schneizel knew. He knew of Suzaku's prowess, of his lightning-fast reflexes. He would not attack head on. Was there a gun turret hidden in one of the walls? Would a noose drop around his neck from the ceiling above? Would the floor open and drop him into the sea? Was there a sonic projector hidden somewhere, tuned to render him helpless? Had some deadly device been planted in his body?

He found himself growing impatient, _wanting_ Schneizel to make his move.

"Very well, Sir Suzaku," Schneizel said mildly. "I believe I can trust you, at least this far."

"Thank you, your Highness." Suzaku felt his calm return. "What are your orders?"

"We will deliver Lord Custer's body to Pendragon," Schneizel replied. "Then I will need your assistance with the preparations for my next move."

"Yes, your Highness."

_**

* * *

**_

_**Beijing, Capital of the Chinese Federation, 9**__**th**__** July 2018 ATB**_

"Her Imperial Majesty! Also called the Compassionate! Also called the Blessed, the Respectful, and the Benign!"

A gong was struck once, twice, the sound reverberating through the chamber. As the silk curtain was drawn aside, all pressed their heads to the floor, sat up, the kowtowed again.

The face gazing down at them was one of delicate and profound beauty. Her small body was clad in a wide-sleeved robe of Imperial yellow, with broad cuffs of black and red embroidered in gold. Over it was hung a wide black stole, trimmed in red and embroidered with golden dragons, the tasselled ends splaying out across the dais on which she sat. An embroidered collar encircled her neck, falling down over her shoulders. Her head was uncovered, revealing thick snow-white hair tied in elaborate braids, with four long tails, two to the front and two behind, reaching the floor. Scarlet eyes gazed out over the assembled dignitaries as they prostrated themselves again.

To some, the gathering might appear pompous and ritualistic. In truth, it was nothing compared to the ritualism of previous Imperial Courts, including that of the Qing dynasty, which the current regime had replaced just under a century earlier. Many reforms had been made since then, to the point where the Chinese people were on occasion actually permitted to look upon the face of _Tianzi_.

All under heaven were subject to heaven's laws.

All under heaven were equal.

Tianzi was the child of heaven.

"Ministers." Her voice was high and clear, her words perfect Mandarin. "We have bidden you gather before us, that we might hear your reports on the most important matters." She turned her head, her gaze lighting on Liu Xiangdao, the Minister of War.

"Minister, your report."

"Majesty," Liu met her gaze, the obeisance having been completed. "The third phase of our rearmament has been completed on schedule. All first-category squadrons have received and integrated the newest aircraft, and all armies have received and integrated the _Longdan_ Ground Control Vehicles. All forces are fully stocked with all necessary supplies."

There was whispering among the Empress' ladies-in-waiting, hovering near the dais. They, like some of the courtiers, wondered if such talk of military things might not bore their young Empress. But if she found such matters dull, she showed no sign of it. Instead she acknowledged the Minister with the slightest inclination of her head.

"Marshal." There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere, as the Empress turned her attention to Marshal Li Xing-ke, General of the Dragon Cavalry. The young man with the long black hair and the cold gaze was known to hold the Empress' complete confidence. As such, some regarded him as China's true ruler. "Do you concur?"

"Yes, Majesty," Xing-ke replied, without looking at Liu.

"I am certain you mean to say," the Empress went on, "that as such, we are ready for war." She paused, scanning her eyes over the courtiers. "War with Britannia. Is that not what you mean to say, Minister?"

"Yes, Majesty." Liu's tone was guarded, more so than usual. "That is to say, if your Majesty sees fit to make war, then we are well positioned to do so."

"And you, Cen Hyang?" Tianzi turned to a young woman, who sat off to the left of the central chamber. "What says the Veiled Pavilion?"

"Prince Schneizel's intrigues have failed, Majesty," the woman replied, with just a hint of satisfaction. "He returns to Britannia in disgrace, and his troops are retreating in disarray. Also, Britannia's economy is within months of total collapse." She did _not _say _"now is the perfect time",_ but her eyes said it for her.

"You are saying then," the Empress looked over the courtiers again, "that we should make war upon Britannia."

"Majesty," Liu spoke up. "If our security, and that of our dependencies, is to be ensured, then Britannia must be driven from our environs. We must do so now, for as we grow stronger, Britannia grows weaker. We can fight with every hope of success."

The Empress seemed to falter, and something of the young girl was visible in her for just a moment.

"To make war on Britannia's colonies," she said. "Surely, this would inflict terrible suffering on the peoples of those lands."

"Majesty." It was Wei Dezhen, Minister for Foreign Affairs. "The peoples of those lands are already suffering under Britannia's tyranny. To liberate them, and bring them under your Majesty's benevolence, would be both virtuous and just."

The Empress seemed to think for a moment.

"We have heard much," she said, "of what Britannia has wrought in Indochina, and in the Philippines. Were it not for what we have witnessed, we would not have thought human beings were capable of such cruelty." There was a shiver through the courtiers at her words. They remembered, with anger and shame, what the Grand Eunuchs had done, and what they sought to do.

"And yet," the Empress went on, "the Britannians are as human as we are. Is it not said that all people are born good?"

"They are, Majesty," Wei replied. "But a child treated cruelly becomes a cruel adult, and treats his own children cruelly. So it is with Britannia, corrupting generation after generation with their mistaken beliefs and improper ideologies. The Britannians can only change if they are made to see the folly of their actions."

"Majesty," Liu cut in. "They must be shown that the world is not their plaything, that the peoples of this world are not their slaves. If we drive them from their colonies in Indochina and the Philippines, they will have no foothold with which to threaten us again."

"Also, if your Majesty will forgive me," Wei spoke up again. "If we were to intervene in Siberia, then the Europeans would be most grateful. We would be in a position to negotiate an end to our pointless enmity with them."

The Empress was silent for a long time. All watched with bated breath, wondering what she would say.

"We have decided." The Empress drew herself up. "We will send an ultimatum to the Britannians. If they will remove themselves from their colonies, and from Siberia, we will reward them with our favour. If they refuse, we shall reward them with the wrath of our Imperial troops. Let it be written, and proclaimed."

All prostrated themselves.

_**

* * *

**_

_**Tokyo, **__**Capital of **__**Japan, 13th July 2018 ATB**_

Shirley Fenette didn't know what to think any more.

Nothing made sense. Nothing was clear. She no longer knew what was true and what wasn't. She couldn't even be sure if her memories were real, or whether they were just dreams, or perhaps someone else's dreams.

She leaned against the door of the monorail car, staring at the ribbed metal floor, dark thoughts running through her mind. There was no one left in the car, and those who had been hadn't paid her much attention. That in itself might otherwise have surprised her, for she had expected to be treated with contempt, or even hostility. It was a sign of how things had calmed down.

It had been seven months since the fall of Area 11, and the reestablishment of Japan. There had been some hairy moments, but the Academy had pulled through.

Mostly.

The students had suffered their fair share of trauma in those terrible days. The news of Princess Euphemia's assassination had been bad enough, but to have the campus invaded by the Black Knights, and for Nina to try and blow them all to hell with a home-made bomb? They were just lucky the bomb hadn't actually gone off.

Then chaos had followed, last for many days as Britannian and Japanese forces struggled for control of the Settlement, largely destroying it in the process. Many students had disappeared, fleeing into the night in panic or going in search of their families. Shirley did not know how many had gotten out, but only a few had called to tell that they were safe. Even fewer had come back straight away.

After that it had been months of waiting. Waiting, and wondering when the end was going to come. Waiting for the day when the soldiers would come, and they would all be herded into the ghetto dubbed the 'Britannian quarter,' or else simply shot.

But it hadn't come. Zero had kept his word, as had his government. Slowly, but surely, things began to calm down, and life returned to something approximating normality. They got a crop of new students, all of them Japanese. It had caused quite a stir, especially when it was discovered how many of them knew certain Ashford Academy students already.

Shirley had heard plenty of tales of surreptitious visits to the ghetto, but she never would have believed it was _that_ many.

And there were two more new students, only a few days ago. And not just _any_ students, but Lelouch's cousin Faramond and some Japanese girl named Tomoyo Daidouji. Milly had taken them in without a word of complaint, and set them up in the Student Council building, her excuse being that the dorms were full.

"_Since when did Lulu…Lelouch have a cousin? He never mentioned a cousin, and Nuna didn't either! But he looks just like her!_"

Was it truth? Or was it another lie?

The Japanese weren't her problem. Her Ashford Academy senior girl's uniform, consisting of a short black skirt, a cream-coloured blazer over a white blouse, and a short green necktie, was generally enough to protect her. At least, it meant that the citizens of Tokyo _as a rule_ didn't treat her like scum. She didn't get thrown out of shops, or attacked in the street, or dragged off to the shanty town that was jokingly dubbed the 'Britannian Quarter,' from which she would have little hope of escape. People who _had_ to deal with her, like shop staff or Police officers, generally behaved with decorum. Some people were, every once in a while, actually _friendly_. But most just pretended she didn't exist.

Her mother wasn't her problem either. She had been _so_ relieved to discover that she was alive, and safe in faraway Australia, whose neutrality Britannia had for some reason chosen to respect.

She didn't really know what that was all about. All she knew was what she remembered from her history textbooks. Lots of stuff about how the usurpers put on the throne of Britain by the evil Napoleon had surrendered their rightful power, polluting Britannia's inheritance with _democracy_ and _socialism_. They had banged on about how Britannia's misguided cousins had lost their empire in India, then replaced it with a weak and perverted _false_ empire, based on _treaties_ and _agreements_ rather than manly and invigorating conquest. They had, apparently, betrayed the civilized world by forcing the inferior Chinese to favour them with trade, then selling them the very weapons by which they had done so. They had done the same with Japan, helping them develop the fighter jets that had shot down Britannian bombers and sunk Britannian warships in the First Pacific War, delaying the inevitable victory by over fifty years. Over time they had allowed their few colonies, including Australia, to become effectively independent, bound only by _affection_ and _history_, instead of arms of steel.

Of course, it mattered not one jot to Shirley Fenette, a girl who was on the swimming team, who studied hard and got good grades, who dreamed of a boy named Lelouch.

History was not her problem.

_He _was.

Lelouch Lamperouge, who was actually Lelouch vi Britannia, who was actually Zero. Lelouch, who had a little sister, who was actually a little brother, when in fact he had both a little sister _and _a little brother, but never in the same place and time. Lelouch, who had killed her father, and broken her world.

A person with so many different stories to tell. But which one of them was true?

Shirley had wondered about it for so long, ever since her father died. At first it was just a strange sensation, something like déjà vu, every time she saw him. Then she found that letter, the one she apparently wrote, revealing that he had killed her father. And then, not long after that, the rebellion had broken out, and she would not see Lelouch again for six months.

The feelings had grown stronger. She had _known_ that she didn't know Lelouch, but she just couldn't shake the feeling that she _should_ know him. Half-remembered feelings, vanishing as suddenly as they appeared. When he came to visit, tears had filled her eyes, her feelings making her run to him. And then they were gone, while she happened to have her arms around him. Then they had come back again, filling her with rage at the thought of him joining the Black Knights. Then pity had come again, a desire to comfort him, and to help him find his beloved sister.

Up and down like a rollercoaster, as if two halves of her being were fighting over the TV remote. Until only a few days ago, when it all came flooding back.

All of it.

She glanced out of the window, and saw the former Viceregal HQ building, big and blocky in the near distance. Where there was once the banner of Britannia on its façade, there was now that of the Black Knights.

"_Lelouch…is Zero._"

She didn't know what to do. The boy who was her friend, for whom she had feelings she didn't quite understand, was the warlord who had ruined countless lives.

And killed her father.

And yet…

Occasionally, Shirley wondered if she was ever going to get off the monorail.

_**

* * *

**_

_**In a place unknown…**_

Cornelia li Britannia was in a thoroughly foul mood.

She had finally found the place, after months of painstaking research and investigation. She had even managed to get there, having persuaded her few followers to wait behind.

She sat in her cell, glaring out at the face smiling at her from behind the translucent door. It was a face she seen so many times, and yet never paid much attention to.

It was the face of all her current troubles.

"I hope the accommodation is to your liking, Cornelia." VV actually sounded sincere. "I wouldn't want my niece to be uncomfortable unnecessarily."

"I put a knife in your skull," Cornelia replied darkly.

"You always did have a very keen eye," VV complimented, rubbing the pristine forehead. "Even when you were little."

"What are you!" Cornelia demanded, refusing to let up. "How could you survive that! Nothing human could!" She had seen the blade strike. She had _seen_ it penetrate his skull and knock him to the ground.

She had seen him stand up, blood trickling down his face, _smiling_ at her.

"But if I am not human," VV mused, "what would I be?"

"How the hell should I know!" Cornelia snapped. "I only know that your current existence is medically impossible!"

"You _know_ it," VV replied with a smirk, "and yet, here I am. You only _know_ it because your conception of the possible is so very, _very_ limited."

"Did you bring me down here to insult me!"

"Insult you, dear niece? Never!" The smirk faded. "I brought you down here for your own good. We simply can't have you interfering at this critical juncture now, _can_ we?"

"Interfere in what!" Cornelia was undeterred. She would _not_ be denied, not having come so far, and lost so much. "What is this you say about killing god! Or whatever it is you call god!" VV paused, his face expressionless. She could read nothing in him, and that frightened her, more than anything else had in a very long time.

"Let me ask you a question," he said eventually. "What makes you thing there is no god?"

"If there was a god," Cornelia replied sternly, "we would not be as we are."

"Oh?" VV appeared bewildered. "What makes you say that?"

"You said that the god you want to kill makes people fight one-another." Cornelia's lip curled. "There is no god that makes us what we are. What we do we do because of our human nature."

"Really?"

"Our natures are the products of our evolution, of the world in which our kind developed," Cornelia went on. "We were made to survive in this world, generation after generation falling before the scythe, the survivors passing on that which made them survive."

"And we alone, of all creatures, became self-aware," VV cut in. "Some would wonder how such a thing could happen _without _divine intervention."

"No competent engineer would have designed our human forms," Cornelia retorted. "Pr granted us such natures as we have. A god so fallible can hardly be called a god."

"You dislike our human nature?"

"We are greedy!" Cornelia spat the words. "We are violent! We are cowardly! We have plenty, yet long for more, because we are no different from those who once feared starvation every day! We might live in peace, yet make war on each other, because we are no different from those who had to fight and kill that they might have enough to eat! In ten thousand years our natures have not changed, and they never will! There is no redemption, no jubilee, no revelation! Thereis_ no god_!"

"Fine words, my well-educated niece." The smirk returned. "But allow me to put something to you. I submit that perhaps there is no redemption, no possibility of improving human nature, _because_ there is no god." Cornelia humphed.

"You're not saying anything! The two statements have the same meaning! It's semantics!"

"Only if there was no possibility whatsoever of a god existing." Cornelia's frown deepened.

"What do you mean? You say that as if you could create a god!" Cornelia knew that such a thing could not be done. But then, what was it that had scared General Bartley out of his wits? What had he meant when he begged her to save him, when he tried to warn her of the Order's intentions?

"Create a god?" VV mused. "Now wouldn't _that _be something. Logically, only a god would be able to change human nature."

"Sterile conjecture! Where is my sister Euphemia!"

"Euphemia?" VV feigned surprise. "Why search for the living among the dead?"

"Don't play games!" Cornelia slammed her fist against the glass, or whatever it was. "I know for a fact you have her! You were _seen_ removing her from the _Avalon_!" VV did not reply.

"Oh yes." Now it was her turn to smirk. "There's always _someone_. Someone who saw something. Someone who knows."

Cornelia knew it for a fact. She had grown up in her mother's residence, spending her childhood in and out of other such residences _and_ the Imperial Palace itself. One of the first things she had learned was that servants knew _everything_ that was going on. They saw, and they heard, and they talked.

And, if insufficiently loyal and properly rewarded, they could reveal all manner of things about their employers.

"And what if your sister was indeed here?" VV allowed. "What would you do?"

"I will take her from here!" Cornelia snarled. "I will bear her back to the homeland, and inter her in the Imperial Mausoleum! It's what she _deserves_!"

"I see." VV sighed. "You loved her so very much, didn't you."

"She was my one and only sister, my blood!" Cornelia's eyes were bright with fervour. "On the day my mother told me of her, I swore I would protect her. With my strength, my blood, and my life! To take her home, to let her rest among her ancestors, to relieve my mother's sorrow, is the _least_ I can do!"

VV regarded her for a few moments. The cell block was silent.

"It must have been so hard on you," he commented, "with a mother like that. Who didn't understand you, or value you for who you are. It must have been hard, always having to try and be someone else, to force yourself into a mould that wasn't made for you. I imagine that after all that, being ignored, being irrelevant, must have been quite a relief."

Confusion, anger, and fear warred on Cornelia's face, and in her soul.

"Is that why you loved Euphie so much?" VV's eyes seemed to bore into her. "Because she kept your mother distracted? Because she could relate to her so much better than you could?"

"As if you could possibly understand!" Cornelia hissed.

"Oh I understand." VV's smile widened, like that of some undersea predator. "I understand that she made you feel like you could do something right. I mean, considering how little else you can do right." He chuckled. "Marianne, Lelouch, Nunnally, Faramond. You couldn't protect any of them. You couldn't even protect Euphie in the end."

"Damn you!" Cornelia snarled, slamming her fists against the door in frustration and rage.

"Damn me?" VV's face wore a look of wounded innocence. "You're the one who's damned here, Cornelia. You couldn't protect her from one man with a rifle, let alone from Zero."

"Where _is_ she!" Cornelia snarled. "_Give_ her to me!"

"I can't do that, Cornelia." VV turned on his heel and walked slowly away. "She will serve her purpose, in her own way. You, on the other hand," he paused, half-turning to smirk back at her, "can stay in your room like a bad girl, and miss all the fun."

The cell block door slid shut behind him, leaving Cornelia alone in the darkness.

_**

* * *

**_

_**Ashford Academy**_

"Do you like it here, Faramond?"

Faramond turned his head to answer his beloved Tomoyo. He felt that familiar warmth as he gazed into her blue eyes. Just walking alongside her, hand in hand, at the end of the day was a pleasure beyond compare.

"I think I do. Everyone's been so considerate. To be honest I was expecting problems."

"From the Japanese students?"

"Well I am a Britannian, after all." Tomoyo giggled.

"They don't have anything against you over that."

"They don't?"

"Of course not!" In truth, she had known barely a moment when the other girls hadn't bombarded her with questions, some of them rather probing.

"I'm glad," Faramond replied. And he was. Most of the students had been friendly, others standoffish, but polite. The only real complication had been a certain Ekaterina Sforza, who seemed to have taken a shine to him.

"Faramond, why won't you tell anyone when your birthday is?" Faramond stopped suddenly.

"Tomoyo, I…"

"They told me they asked you," she went on. "But you won't tell them when it is. And you never told me either."

"I…I don't want to tell anyone." Faramond lowered his head, casting his eyes in shadow. "It's not something I want them to know."

"But why?" Tomoyo was surprised. "It's only your birthday. They want to know so they can wish you well."

"_If they knew_," Faramond thought. "_They would hate me._"

"Please, Tomoyo," he pleaded. "Don't ask any more."

"Very well." There wasn't much emotion in the reply. But Faramond could tell that she was disappointed. He found himself wondering how he could make it up to her.

Most likely, a part of him knew, by finding a way to tell her.

They were approaching the Student Council building via the gardens. The flowers were in full bloom, filling the air with a pleasant melange of scents. It was hot, but not too hot, the air somewhat humid, though Faramond had gotten used to it. There were two girls up approaching them, clad in the same pink gymslip as Tomoyo. Faramond had never seen either of them, but he had only been at Ashford Academy for a week, so it did not trouble him.

What troubled him was the way the pair stopped in front of them, blocking their way. Their faces were expressionless, but Faramond felt a twinge of threat.

"Is something wrong?"

"Faramond u Britannia," said the girl on the right, the one with the short hair and the dark skin. "Please come with us."

"I don't understand." Faramond tried desperately not to panic. "You've mistaken me for someone else."

"There is no mistake," said the other girl, the one with the long, white-blonde hair and the pale skin. "You are the one we were sent to find."

"Who are you!" Tomoyo demanded, trying not to sound afraid. "Why do you want him?"

"He must be brought to the Sanctum," said the short-haired girl.

"He must be prepared for his destiny," said the long-haired girl.

"You must stand aside."

"Stand aside or we will kill you."

"Why!" Faramond snapped, some instinct he had never known moving him to shield Tomoyo. "Why would you want to kill her?"

"She laid hands on you."

"She embraced you."

"She loves you."

"She is not worthy."

"You are wrong," Faramond replied, his voice low. "It is I who am unworthy of her." This brought the two girls up short.

"You…don't know?" asked the short-haired one, brow furrowing in bewilderment.

"Know what?" Faramond asked.

"We're from the Order," said the other, as if he should have known what that meant. "The Geass Directorate? We're your Guardians…you know?" Faramond shook his head. The two girls looked at one-another in confusion. Evidently this had not been part of the plan.

"We don't have time to explain," the short-haired one said seriously. "But you have to come with us right now."

"Please," the long-haired girl said, a hint of pleading in her tone. "Don't make us take you by force."

Faramond and Tomoyo tried to back away.

Then Faramond arched his back, opening his mouth to scream, but the only sound was a harsh, electric fizz. He collapsed into the arms of a tall woman with long black hair.

"Fara…!" Tomoyo began to cry his name, but the short-haired girl was upon her, striking the back of her neck. She slumped to the ground, unconscious.

"Took you long enough, Sancia" groused the short-haired girl.

"I'm not the one who was screwing up," Sancia retorted, slipping the tazer into her pocket and slinging Faramond over her shoulder. "What do we do with the girl?" She gestured at the prone Tomoyo.

"We'll bring her with us," replied Jeremiah Gottwald, stepping past her to look down at the girl. "His Highness will be much happier that way." He gestured for the short-haired woman, whose name he would not deign to speak, to pick up Tomoyo. The woman did so, then turned to regard Faramond, still hanging from Sancia's shoulder, with something like sorrow. She reached out to touch his face.

Only to recoil as Jeremiah grabbed her hand.

"No," he said, sternly. "You may not." He saw the hostility in her eyes, the desire to rebuke, to lash out at him. But he knew she would do no such thing.

"Let's be off," he said curtly. And the quintet hurried away.

Such was their haste, that they had no way of knowing that someone was watching them.

Alice slipped out of the bushes. Her heart pounded like a drum as she ran for the Student Council building.

"_Lucretia! Dalque! What are they doing here!_"

She did not know. But she knew she had to get help. What was more, she knew that Milly Ashford had a direct line to Zero. The Black Knights were her only chance.

She could not let them take him.

Not the one who looked like Nunnally.

**

* * *

**

**(Finally done! I can only apologise for the delay, but I've had a bad few months, what with one thing and another. I'm trying to move this plot along as fast as I can, so as to finish this story off in the next few chapters. If it seems rushed I'm sorry, but I kind of let the story drag a bit in the early chapters. If I ever get around to that rewrite, I'll be sure to have everything properly planned.**

**A minor point, regarding that little bit of history Shirley was musing on. In this timeline, Britain developed in a very different direction to real life, for fairly obvious reasons. This time round, the British tried to gain wealth and power by controlling sea trade, since they no longer had the manpower or resources for outright conquest. The reference to fighter jets is an ironic twist on real history. Japan actually managed to develop its own jets in 1945, starting with copies of the Me-262 and then working on their own designs, though it was too little too late. I had an effective jet force be one of the reasons Japan avoided being conquered by Britannia in the 1****st**** Pacific War. For reference, the 2****nd**** Pacific War was 2010 ATB, with Japan being conquered.**

**For those who don't know, Alice is a major character in the 'Nightmare of Nunnally' manga, who is very close to Nunnally. Lucretia (the long-haired girl), Dalque (the short-haired girl), and Sancia are also taken from that manga, and were Alice's teammates. Their story is somewhat different this time round, and I want to make clear that Alice has no special powers. **

**Also, Shirley's section was an attempt to tidy up my utter mishandling of her reunion with Lelouch earlier on in this fic. I had actually forgotten that the Emperor's Geass could rewrite her memories to such an extent as to undo the damage done by Lelouch's well-meaning memory wipe. My explanation is that she is subconsciously resisting the Geass.) **


	16. The Cruelty of Veracity

**Chapter Sixteen: The Cruelty of Veracity**

_A truth that's told with bad intent beats all the lies you can invent_

_William Blake_

_**Now**_

_**Aquitaine, France, 13**__**th**__** July 2018 ATB**_

The base was a hive of activity.

Cliché, but broadly true. The air base where Magnus Constantian just happened to be was indeed a busy place. It could hardly be anything _but_ busy, considering what was about to happen.

The _Adler_ stood on grass, occupying a space cleared especially for it, so that it would not ruin the tarmac with its weight. It stood, like the bird of prey it appeared to be, on mighty legs with talons spread wide. Its avian head was held level, giving Magnus a fine view of the cleared spaces in and around the base, specially expanded and prepared for the occasion.

The space was filled with zeppelins, arranged in rows on the tarmac and flattened grass. Portable road sections ran across the grass, forming flat spaces from which men and cargo could be loaded. Magnus could see them loading. He could see the airship troopers, German _Zeppelintruppen_ and French _Chasseurs a Dirigible_, in their distinctive fatigues. Their zeppelins, the smaller and faster of them, would go in first to secure the landing sites, freeing up paratroopers for other duties. The zeppelins would carry _Orlando _knightmares with them to support the larger cargo airships, capable of carrying nearly two-hundred tons each, would bring in the heavier units and their equipment. He watched for a moment as the vehicles and containers were winched on board.

To think it would be happening so soon. To think that what Britannia had taken over so many blood-soaked months, snatching in the final instant with treachery and deceit, had been won back in the space of ten days. France was all but free, and Spain and Portugal were not far off. The Russians were celebrated the liberation of St Petersburg, and were consolidating for a push on Moscow. _La Marseillaise _and _Le Chant du Depart _blared over the French airwaves. Everywhere it seemed as though Britannia was in headlong, disorganized retreat.

But Magnus knew it was not over yet. Their Prince had seemingly abandoned them, but many hundreds of thousands of Britannians soldiers still remained in France, cut off from their supply lines in ever-shrinking pockets. They were running short of supplies, but Magnus had fought Britannians too many times to write them off so soon.

Even so, it was unlikely that those unfortunates could do anything but break out and head south, hoping to make it to what little remained of their own lines. And there were little of those to speak of. Lyons had fallen, after days of brutal bombardment, and the fifty divisions rushed in from Spain had been smashed in a flurry of engagements south of Bordeaux, the survivors fleeing back into lands that were no longer theirs. There were reports of Britannian soldiers found dead by the roadside, or hanged from trees or lampposts. Already a beaten and occupied Spain was rising from the ashes, its hurriedly re-organized forces occupying bases and defensive positions, even the shattered defences of Santiago. No Britannians remained to stop them, and their compatriots in Africa were seemingly powerless to act.

Only a thin pocket along France's east coast remained in active Britannian hands. Their soldiers clung stubbornly to Avignon, even as EU artillery rained shells and missiles upon them, an assault they could not answer for they had no artillery of their own. With the Imperial Air Force driven from the skies, they would soon have bombs to contend with, another insult they could neither answer nor avenge. Toulouse had been liberated two days earlier, and EU forces were advancing east towards Montpelier, the western limit of the Britannian pocket. With the Italian air force flying sorties around the clock and the Imperial Navy's Battlefleet Mediterranean effectively destroyed, little if any supplies were getting through. Of Battlefleet Atlantic's six battlecarriers, two were confirmed sunk and at least one more was seriously damaged. That carrier, the _Crown of Light_, was currently laid up at Port Charles, a major Britannian naval base on the coast of Area 14, formerly Mauritania, and the only one in Britannian-held Africa capable of handling so large a ship. That left three more battlecarriers and their escorts, up against a combined EU fleet that would, once the state navies were finished working up new ships and refitting old ones, outnumber it two to one. And that was only in carriers, never mind the refitted battleships, the missile cruisers, the destroyers, the frigates, and the submarines. The latter were already fighting, duelling in the darkness with their Britannian counterparts, their victories unknown, their sacrifices unremembered.

But still the Britannians fought on, as if they did not understand the concept of defeat. EU troops could destroy a whole division, and the Britannians would send another, and another, and another. Their supply ships were sunk, but they sent more. Their fighters were blasted from the sky, yet still they sortied.

Magnus knew their struggle was futile, especially in the air. Their F-24 _White Knight_, was an extremely powerful fighter aircraft. But their plasma-thrust engines guzzled liquid sakuradite, and for every hour they spent in the air they needed thirty hours of maintenance, generally because every round of maintenance required the replacement of any number of parts. With fuel, parts, and even ordnance running low, there was less and less that Britannia's embattled pilots could do in France. Their comrades on the ground were little better off, with knightmare parts and Energy Fillers in critically short supply. The batteries were the worst loss of all, for without them even their weapons were useless.

Amateurs study tactics, professionals study logistics. It was an old cliché, one of countless sound bites drummed into him at the Academy. It wasn't entirely fair, for without effective tactics and strategies all the weapons in the world would do little good. But Magnus had learnt the lesson, both the letter and the spirit.

Going on the current evidence, and assuming that nothing too disastrous happened, then it was _just_ possible that they would win.

Magnus liked the idea. But he would like it a lot better _without_ the publicity.

He did not for the life of him know why, but the European press had decided that _he_, Colonel Magnus Constantian, was the hero of the hour. Someone had told them that Operation Halo Dawn was his work, and the newspapers were full of descriptions, many of them sensational and crude. Worse, someone had let slip how the late President Dressler had arrested him on the flimsiest of pretexts, and even intended to hand him over to the Britannians. The readers learned of how the Japanese Legion risked all to save their beloved Colonel and of how, reunited, they had rushed to Zero's assistance over Brussels, using the mighty _Adler _to defeat the Britannians and make victory possible.

"She said she had to speak with you on a matter of the utmost urgency," murmured the adjutant. "She showed a EUROSEC pass."

"I see. Very well." Magnus dismissed the adjutant with a nod, and left the bridge.

A short walk, and a few flights of curving stairs, took him to the officers' quarters. His own were denoted by a name plate on the door, though Magnus brow furrowed when he noticed that the rank plate, which sat above the name plate, had been removed.

The door opened at a touch of the control. His quarters were spacious, though not extravagantly so, the walls seemingly undecorated, but actually shaped and painted in such a fashion as to fool an occupant's senses, making the rooms seem bigger than in fact they were. A clever trick, intended to make the rooms more liveable while saving actual space.

The lights were turned down low, save for a patch of utter darkness at the opposite end. Magnus stepped through the door.

And froze, as it slid shut behind him.

Something shone in the darkness, a downward chevron of crimson, bathing the room in weird, unnatural light. The light shone from a head, in place of eyes, playing over a vaguely human figure, standing stock-still at the opposite wall. The dim light illuminated its armoured form, glossy black like the carapace of a beetle. Even as it stood there, unmoving, wreathed in dark shadows, it wore an aura of barely-concealed menace.

"Thanatos," Magnus said sourly. "Why are you here?"

"Because we need to talk, Magnus," a female voice said from his left. "And I had to get your attention somehow."

A woman stepped into the light. She had blonde hair, glamorously coiffed, and a look of indulgent amusement. Her body was shapely, but not excessively so, even as the finely-tailored skirt-suit accentuated its form. Magnus recognized her immediately.

"Dietlinde Eckart."

"So cold," the woman mocked. "You used to call me aunt Dietlinde, when Lukas brought you visiting. Though it took him long enough to persuade you."

"Affection does not come easily to me," Magnus retorted, "when people invite themselves onto my ship."

"I'm sorry about that." Dietlinde sighed, her countenance a little less arrogant. "But as I said, I needed to get your attention. What's more, I needed to do it somewhere where we could talk in private."

"By turning up unannounced?" Magnus gestured at the shadowy figure. "With him?"

"Surprised?" There was a sparkle in Dietlinde's eyes. "I've known about the Furiae even longer than you have, ever since I started my current line of work."

"With the Thule Society, you mean." Magnus tone was sour with contempt. It was Dietlinde's turn to sigh.

"That's the trouble with our education system," she said, somewhat wearily. "Anything remotely supernatural is by definition nonsense. The academic community refuses to believe there might be any truth in it until presented with incontrovertible evidence, by which time it's generally too late."

"And you believe the Thule Society has the answers?" Magnus scoffed. "A pack of occultist misfits rebelling against scientific truth?"

"I'll admit that's how they started, in my grandfather's day." Dietlinde paused. "But I would have thought you'd be a little more open-minded, considering what happened to you recently." Magnus felt the blood drain from his face.

"Might I ask how you found out about that?"

"Deductive reasoning. Are you going to let me explain, or are you going to throw me off the ship?" She cocked an eyebrow. Magnus sighed, and gestured at a chair. Dietlinde sashayed over to the chair, high-heeled boots clicking on the deck plates, and sat down. Magnus did likewise, taking a moment to look at her closely.

She was much as he remembered her, from that day so many years ago. He would never forget those days, when Lukas had first taken him home for Christmas. He would always remember stepping off the train, Lukas taking his hand, and leading him towards the beaming people who were his family.

_She_ had been among them, regarding him with that look of amused indulgence he would always associate with her.

"As I was saying, deductive reasoning. You, the notorious Quiescence addict, are suddenly incapable of administering your own drug. This change happens immediately after Zero pays you a private visit in prison. Also, what Zero inflicted on you happens to fit with a lot of other things we know."

"You have information on what he did?" Magnus tried and failed to conceal his interest.

"So _now _you take me seriously?" mocked Dietlinde, amused. "Then again, having your life turned upside down tends to have that effect. Unfortunately most of our evidence is second-hand, that is to say, the effect rather than the cause."

"Such as?"

"First, perhaps you can tell me precisely what happened." Her expression had not changed, but Magnus could see the insistence in her gaze.

"His mask opened," he said, trying not to shiver at the memory. "I saw his right eye. There was…a light in it, coloured a reddish purple. I felt something…like a moment of déjà-vu. Then his mask was closed, and he put an ampoule on the table. I tried to use it…but…"

"A moment of déjà-vu," Dietlinde repeated. "That's exactly the term Frederik Syzmanowski used. He also claimed to have no memory of what happened, not even of when he transmitted the entire plan for Operation Halo Dawn to the Black Knights."

"So it was Zero." Magnus' fist clenched unconsciously. "How much information did he get?"

"Everything in the Operation file that wasn't under Black Ultra encryption. EUROSEC thinks he pulled that little stunt at Brussels deliberately."

"Of course he did." The fist clenched again. "He provided the random element that my plan needed. He made it work."

"And you resent him for it?" Dietlinde cocked an eyebrow again. "It was still your plan. Everyone knows it. You deserve the credit you were given, however insincerely."

"Ah yes," Magnus scoffed. "Being paraded through Paris, in front of all those cameras, and having my hand pumped by people I don't even know."

"You're a hero, Magnus," Dietlinde smirked. "That makes you a hot brand. Being seen with you will make a career or several. It's human nature, nothing more."

"Then perhaps you'll tell me what brought you here," Magnus replied tersely. "Don't tell me it was a social call. It's not your style."

"You know me too well, Magnus." Dietlinde reached for her briefcase and opened it, drawing out a thin dossier with a EUROFORCE logo on the cover. She handed it to Magnus, and he read it.

And again.

And again, to make absolutely sure that the words said what they appeared to say. His head snapped up, accusation in his eyes.

"They're pulling us off the line!" he barked. "Me, the brigade, _and_ the _Adler_?"

"Magnus, believe me I'm not doing this to ruin your life," Dietlinde protested, with apparent sincerity. "I know how much this means to you, and how important the legion and this ship are to the war effort. But those are the resources we will need, and you're the only one who can command this expedition."

"And why is that?"

"The same reason Zero wants you, and why Britannia wants you dead. You're an excellent tactician and strategist, your devotion to duty borders on the robotic, and you have a certain knack for getting the job done no matter what. Aside from that, you're about the only officer in EUROFORCE who would understand the mission."

"I take that your mission involves Zero."

"Up to a point," Dietlinde admitted. "Rather, it involves the source of his power, and those like it."

"You're referring to the one who killed Galland." Magnus was unable to conceal his interest. "And President Dressler."

"Yes indeed." Dietlinde chuckled indulgently, though Magnus could detect relief, no doubt at having avoided a confrontation over the orders. "Michel Galland, shot with his adjutant's sidearm while inside a locked room. Dressler, gunned down in his soundproofed office by Commissar-General Rico of EUROARMPOL, though not before putting a bullet in the aforesaid's shoulder."

"How is the Commissar-General by the way?"

"Getting better, the last I heard. Fortunately for him the forensics backed up his story, so he'll still have his job waiting for him when he gets out of hospital."

Magnus understood. Things had been looking hairy for Joseph Rico, as they invariably would for the man who shot the President. He had spent several days handcuffed to his hospital bed, despite his insistence that the apparently insane Dressler had fired first. The handcuffs had been removed only when the results of EUROARMPOL's investigation had been confirmed by EUROJUST, thus forestalling accusations of whitewash.

Rico had emptied his Beretta C500 in the general direction of Dressler, a bullet in his right shoulder balancing against his known pistol marksmanship. Of the eighteen bullets fired, seven had struck the President's torso, the entire clip being fired off in approximately one second. According to the pathologists, such punishment would have made it impossible for Dressler to fire once Rico was firing. This proved that Dressler had fired first, though there were still mutterings in the newspapers as to why Rico was carrying a fully-automatic electromagnetic handgun of the sort normally issued to armed policemen for counter-terrorist operations. Anyone who knew the Commissar-General could testify to his habits, and it wasn't _really_ against the rules.

"We think those particular hits were carried out by this individual." Dietlinde reached into her briefcase again, drawing out a photograph and holding it out for Magnus to see. It was a surveillance picture of a young teen with brown hair and a somewhat delicate look to him.

"I've seen him!" Magnus exclaimed. "He was in Zero's party!"

"I know. He was first sighted in Japan during the Black Rebellion, but EUROSEC's pretty sure he was working for Britannia before then. They've linked him to most of the officer killings, plus a few others."

"So he defected to Zero's side?"

"It seems that way."

"Then surely your strategy is to watch Zero." Magnus snorted. "What do you need me and my men for? Or do you have more in mind than watching?"

"The organisation that creates these individuals calls itself the Order. We don't know much about them other than their name, since whenever we catch up to them they've already left. Their usual MO is to maintain a secret base in an isolated area, moving on when things get hairy. We're pretty sure they're based somewhere in the Chinese Federation's territory."

"And that Zero and his young turncoat will lead you to them?"

"In a word, yes. Zero has opposed Britannia with no small success. If the Order has truly sided with Britannia, then they'll move against him before too long. He's gotten up their noses once too often to be allowed to continue."

"This…_Order_," Magnus narrowed his eyes. "You want them destroyed."

"Straight to the point, as usual." There was something cold in Dietlinde's gaze. "Yes, they cannot be allowed to run free, not if they insist on supporting Britannia. And believe me, Magnus, they go back a long way." Magnus got up and headed for his desk, strange and painful thoughts running through his mind.

"Does Britannia extend its power into the realms of the impossible?" Magnus placed the dossier on his desk, trying and failing to contain his anger. "Is this what they will do? Use powers of which we know nothing? Against which we cannot fight?" He hung his head, feeling her gaze on his back, rage and sorrow roiling within him.

"Magnus…"

"How are we to resist such powers!" Magnus snarled, tears of frustration pricking at his eyes. "What can we, mere soldiers, do against those who can turn our own minds against us? Why does Britannia possess such powers! How can they be…_how can they be…_?" He trailed off, unable to speak the unspeakable.

"It is not because Britannia is blessed," Dietlinde said gently, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "There are no gods to favour them. Britannia is not what you fear it is."

"Then what is Britannia?" Magnus asked, his voice hoarse. "It's as if someone is breaking the rules for them, as if life is just some story, and that author wants Britannia to win. I sometimes feel as though we're fighting fate itself."

"You think them mighty," Dietlinde went on, her voice low and calm, yet strangely unsettling. "But they are weak. Weak, stunted, deformed, and afraid. They think themselves gods, yet they are little more than beasts, slaves to the fear and hate on which their society, their value system, is built." She paused, letting her words sink in.

"As a nation they are driven by two equally vehement yet completely irreconcilable desires. One is the desire for safety, to live in a world where nothing can threaten them, for there is nothing but Britannians and Numbers. The other is a desire to get stronger, to grow and develop through conflict."

"They would walk innocent under the naked stars," Thanatos hissed, his words seeming to come at Magnus from the darkest shadows. "Unthreatened, unconstrained, masters of all they survey. They would prey on all humanity, than none may prey on them."

"They can never have it," Magnus replied. "If they enslave this world it will be their undoing. If they have no competitors other than themselves, they will either stagnate or destroy themselves. Perhaps both."

"You're right." Dietlinde's tone lightened. "That is why we must deny them the power of the Order. That is why we must learn as much about their power as possible. That is why we need your help. Will you help me?"

"I will."

"Good. If possible, I'd like to leave as soon as the rest of my team is aboard. I managed to poach Lukas and Akiko from EUROMED." Magnus stiffened, making Dietlinde smile.

"It's a shame you won't give her a chance Magnus," she said. "She's a fine girl."

"I was not made for love, Chairwoman Eckart."

"Perhaps not. In any case, they asked me to give you this." Dietlinde removed a small black box from her briefcase and placed it on the desk in front of him. As she turned and headed for the door, Magnus opened the box.

It was not the two gold collar pins that made him freeze. Rather it was the loop of coloured thread, skilfully woven with a reef knot allowing it to be loosened and tightened. It was wide enough to fit on a child's wrist.

He had seen it before.

"_I made one for you too…Magnus._"

Gritting his teeth, Magnus slipped it into his pocket, hoping desperately that Thanatos had not seen it.

"Congratulations," Dietlinde shot him from the doorway. "_General _Constantian." The door slid shut behind her.

"Does this amuse you, Thanatos?" Magnus asked sarcastically, setting the box on the desk. "Do you laugh to see me under her thumb?"

"No, General." There seemed to be even less emotion in his tone than usual.

"I trust you've had a good war, Thanatos."

"I have, General." The red visor seemed to gleam in the low light. "My brethren and I have hunted, and we have killed. We did what was required of us…and it was glorious."

Magnus was unsettled. He could feel the Fury's presence in the air, and on his skin. An aura of palpable menace, and the promise of bloodshed. He almost thought he could smell it.

It was no small thing to be a Fury's presence. Few outside of their own ranks were permitted to do so, at least without being summarily killed. And of their victims, of which there were more than Magnus could count, few had any inkling of what was coming for them. The Furies killed from the shadows, coming as swift as death, and vanishing like smoke on the wind, leaving only carnage and terror behind them.

Irresistible. Unimaginable.

"For what it's worth, Thanatos, Operation Halo Dawn would not have worked without you."

"We are pleased to be of use, General." There was a barely audible clicking as he flexed his right gauntlet. "Especially to you."

"You never told me what that is," Magnus asked, willing himself not to be afraid. "Why are you so considerate of my situation?"

"Because you sent Janus to us." There was something in the voice that time, something that had not been there before. "Such is proof that you understand us. You are…like us." Magnus did not reply.

"You live to fight, as we do," Thanatos went on, his low voice echoing around the room. "You devote yourself, as we do. You give of yourself, as we have done. As you are now, so once were we. As we are now, you may yet be."

"I no longer use the Quiescence."

"So much the better." Magnus wasn't sure, but Thanatos almost sounded pleased. "Better to feel the joy of the battle…and the kill."

"Then maybe you'll tell me what this mission is all about." Magnus took the gold pins from the box, and started fitting them to his collar. "The Chairwoman of the Thule Society would not be involved unless there was something unusual to it, and EUROSEC wouldn't authorize your deployment unless they expected dire violence." He turned to gaze directly into Thanatos' visor. "So?"

"It is as the Chairwoman told you. The Order has empowered many agents, whom they sent to Britannia's service. They killed many, and subverted many others, spreading discord and chaos."

"Ironic," Magnus humphed. "I probably owe them my career. If there wasn't such a shortage of officers I wouldn't have risen so fast."

"Nevertheless, General, it was because of them that EUROSEC was given permission to set us loose."

"You've been fighting the Order's agents?"

"We fought them…and we killed them." Thanatos raised his right hand, clenched in a fist. "They found us…not so easy to destroy."

"I see. Will Janus be coming?"

"Of course, General. He will enjoy fighting under your command, as will we all. But you must accept my advice in dealing with the Order. You have fallen victim to the power of only one, and no two of their powers are entirely alike."

"Then tell me." Magnus' brow furrowed as he set his will against the Fury's aura. "Tell me what these powers are!"

"I will tell you." Thanatos lowered his hand. "I will tell you of a power that defies known science. I will tell you of a power that bends fate, and remakes history. I will tell you of the power of the King." Thanatos lowered his head just slightly, as if to match Magnus' stare. The crimson glow seemed to fill his vision.

"I will tell you…of _Geass._"

___**Tokyo, Capital of Japan, 13**__**th**__** July 2018 ATB **_

* * *

"Rolo, are you on your way?"

"Yes brother! I got your message a minute ago!"

Lelouch glanced from screen to screen, fighting down the fury and panic bubbling down below.

They had taken him. They had taken both of them. Faramond _and_ Tomoyo. His precautions had been insufficient. How could he have made such a mistake?

"Brother, where are they now?" Rolo's voice came again over the radio.

"Still on campus!" Lelouch replied, following the twin dots as they raced across his screen. Having the bugs planted during their medicals had been a good idea after all. "Enter by the south entrance and head them off!"

"Understood!" As Rolo signed off, Lelouch felt the MCV sway from left to right under him. CC was driving like a lunatic, but he could afford no caution.

He could not let them take Faramond. He could not let them take his nephew the way they took…

_Her body slumped over the stairs, skin turning white, gown turning red. _

_In her arms, shivering, staring blindly at the ceiling._

Lelouch felt cold. He had to force the images from his mind, the sights that had haunted him for half his life.

He would _not_ loose Faramond. Not the way he lost his mother. Not the way he lost…

"_Nunnally…_"

It occurred to him only that day. For what might have been a week or more, he had barely thought about her. He had been so busy trying to keep the chaotic mess that was post-occupation Japan moving, so overwhelmed with reports, requests, and tear-stained petitions. When he woke up that morning, he realised that he was no longer sure what he was supposed to be doing.

Was he supposed to be destroying Britannia? Saving Nunnally? Making a better world for her to live happily in? Or was he supposed to be running Japan? Wasn't its liberation meant to be merely a stepping stone on a greater path? Or was it something else?

Was it remorse?

He had become a tyrant, of that he was becoming increasingly certain. He had driven out the Britannians, driving them onto ships and herding those who remained into the so-called _Britannian quarters_, little more than the ghettoes into which they had herded the Japanese eight years earlier. But he had not merely confined his oppression to the Britannians. When the people of Iwate rose against his regime, unwilling to be ruled by a non-Japanese, he had sent troops to put them down. Their villages had burned, their blood gushing in the streets to put out the flames. The troops, some of the army, some of his own Black Knights, had followed his orders to the letter, killing anyone who carried a weapon or offered violence of any kind. He had no way of knowing how many had died for defending their homes, or for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And when the fighting was over, the survivors were herded into prison camps, along with anyone else who opposed or offended him. The Yazukas, religious fanatics, petty criminals, communists, ultranationalists. All were violent. All were fratricides, murdering and mistreating their fellow Japanese for one reason or another. All were labelled _enemy of the state_.

When winter came, few survived. There were no blankets, no warm clothes, no hot meals, to be spared for such people while the weak and powerless were cold and hungry.

Zero the tyrant.

Zero the human-rights abuser.

Zero the denier of due process.

Lelouch of the death camps.

Sometimes he thought he could no longer bear it. Sometimes he felt as if his own conscience would strangle him as he slept. Sometimes, in his darkest moments, he felt as though all humanity would condemn him.

"_Your existence is a mistake!_"

But Kallen had not condemned him.

No indeed. She had forgiven him. She had told him that there was no other way, that anything else would have been worse. She had told him that if he had not suppressed them, not locked them behind barbed wire, then they would have haunted and bedevilled him, and all the Japanese people. They were violent, she said. They were killers, and bandits, who cared for nothing but their own desires. She told him that she understood, that she knew he had not meant for them to die, freezing and starving, without so much as a show trial. She knew he had not wished it so.

She had saved him. She had _loved _him.

And he had spoken barely a word to her since it had happened.

Lelouch shook away the thoughts. He forced himself not to think of her wide hips, of her lean, toned abdomen pressing against his. He forced himself not to remember her warm, soft breasts, into which she had pressed his head. He drove away the memory of long, strong arms and well-muscled legs, enfolding and trapping him, forcing him to thrust, and thrust, and thrust…

He returned his attention to the console, his thoughts regaining their focus, and checked his map again.

They would reach Ashford Academy in only a few minutes.

___**Ashford Academy**_

* * *

"What kind of plan is this!" Sancia snapped, as the alarm bells rang out across the campus. "You're gonna get us all killed!"

"Be quiet!" Jeremiah snapped back. "We're not done yet!" His forceful tone belied the

His eyes glanced back and forth, alert for threats. None were forthcoming, but he knew that it wouldn't last. Before long there would be armed police, perhaps even soldiers or Black Knights, swarming in to block off the exits and chase them down.

But he was not afraid. He was not the old Jeremiah Gottwald, grief-stricken, ashamed and disgraced. Prince Schneizel had remade his body, making it stronger, faster, and better than ever before. The Order had granted him the Geass Canceller, rendering him immune to that strange power. He had been reborn, reincarnated to serve the Order.

But some of his old self still remained. Namely a degree of aristocratic disdain, incompatible with his new humility, but which nonetheless caused his lip to curl in irritation at the person walking towards him.

It was a maid.

An _Eleven_ maid.

What was more, her eyes were staring straight into his, without so much as a hint of deference or fear. It set his teeth on edge.

"And you are!" he called out in challenge, stepping in front of his companions. The woman did not reply, but halted a few metres in front of him.

He felt a sudden and horribly familiar sensation of déjà-vu. He smiled, as with a thought he activated that which the Order had installed in place of his left eye. The Geass Canceller let loose a flash of radiance, blue rather than the usual red. His smile widened at the twitch of movement in the corner of his right eye.

He broke right, leaping over a row of bushes, intent on the shorter figure trying to draw something from inside his jacket. His right hand closed around Rolo's face, the force of his momentum driving the boy to the ground.

He looked back, checking behind him. He saw Sancia drop Prince Faramond from her shoulder to the waiting arms of Lucretia and Dalque, her other hand bringing a handgun to bear on the maid. The maid's hand twitched, though Jeremiah's enhanced eye showed the truth of it. The tiny flechette whistled through the air, striking Sancia's gun and knocking it from her hand.

Jeremiah's triumphant smile became a grimace of intermingling anger and anticipation. This was no mere maid who challenged him.

"Get out of here!" he roared, as the maid began to charge him. Lucretia and Dalque instantly obeyed, charging off in the opposite direction, the still-unconscious prince hanging between their shoulders. The woman, whose name he would not speak, ran after them, lugging the unconscious Tomoyo Daidouji. Sancia lingered a moment, snarling in rage at having been so effortlessly defeated, then followed them.

In an instant Jeremiah was on his feet. A thought brought forth another gift, the long blade set into his left arm, which Prince Schneizel had granted him, and had been improved-upon by the Order. The blade hissed as it emerged from his wrist, coming up to catch the maid's first blow. She was fast, his blade barely meeting the dagger in her hand. The blades clanged as they met, the maid's dagger sliding up and away. Jeremiah leapt back, avoiding a swift slash from the dagger in her other hand. She slashed again, and again, one dagger above, one below, one to the left, one to the right. Jeremiah found himself falling back before the onslaught, barely managing to deflect or evade her blows.

He had made a mistake. He realised it with a gut-wrenching certainty as Rolo, the boy who had betrayed both the Order _and_ the OSI, struggled to his feet and disappeared around the corner from which he had emerged. His mistake had been to engage the maid in a battle of quickness and agility, a remnant of his arrogance having his judgement.

The price of his arrogance might well be the failure of the mission. Zero had many potent servants, but none quite so dangerous as Rolo, whose geass could freeze any person in their tracks, and against which there was no known defence except himself. It was his responsibility to neutralize the boy, and he had failed.

Jeremiah knew that he had to end the fight quickly. He leapt back, and back again, his enhanced legs bearing him away. To his surprise his opponent did not pursue him, but rather halted opposite him across a grass quadrangle. Jeremiah did likewise, staring the maid who was not a maid down. The grass waved in the breeze.

"Who are you!" he roared.

"Sayoko Shinozaki! Thirty-seventh successor of the Shinozaki Ryuu!" the maid barked back. She reached behind her waist, and pulled. Her black dress came apart, seeming to blossom away from her like a flower, dropping loose to the ground. Under it was a black body-stocking, over which hung tight bandoliers festooned with throwing knives, daggers, and other razor-sharp implements of kinds Jeremiah had never seen in real life. Her golden eyes were cold and hard, and he knew that their clash would be swift and decisive.

He moved. And so did she.

A flurry of throwing knives and razor-bladed stars whistled and hissed through the air towards him. Some he batted aside, others tore through his clothes to bounce off the armour plates beneath. A few hit bare flesh, on those parts of him that were yet natural, but the pain of it was not enough to stop him. He saw the determination in her eyes as she brought up her daggers once again. He would have one chance, and one chance only.

He did not strike at her directly. He did not fling himself onto her darting, dancing blades, as she no doubt expected him to do. Instead he broke left at the last minute, twisting his waist in such a manner as to make his body rotate in mid-air. Only a mere instant passed, but time seemed to slow down as he spun past her, bringing his enhanced left leg around to catch her in the back.

It struck, the force of it combining with her own momentum to hurl her forward. On top of that, the blow was jarring enough to break her concentration, to disturb her finely-tuned self-control. Sayoko Shinozaki crashed to the ground, driving a muddy furrow in the grass as she slid forward.

Jeremiah allowed himself the feeling of satisfaction, but only for a brief moment. He thought of sparing the warrior-woman, but decided against it. She was too potent a foe to be allowed to live.

Then, as he prepared to strike the killing blow, a roar filled his world. He looked up, astonished to see a crimson shape descend from the clouds, dropping like a raptor diving upon a kill.

The shock of it left Jeremiah dumbstruck, unable to move or think. He was overcome, even as the _Guren Kashoshiki_ halted in midair above him. His mind regained control as tiny hatches burst open in the knightmare's shoulders. The shoulders erupted in smoke, the distinctive _chuh-chuh-chuh _sound of a missile barrage followed by the high-pitched _whoosh_ of tiny engines. He tried to leap back, but the missiles spread out, slamming into the turf all around him.

But they did not explode. For a few moments the projectiles sat where they had landed, doing nothing at all.

Then as one they glowed green, crackling as green lightning flashed between them. Jeremiah's body was wracked with pain as his enhancements betrayed him. He fell to his knees, his entire left side ignoring the commands of his brain.

_A Gefjun field. _

A curious scientific phenomenon, one Jeremiah had little understand of. As far as he could remember, it was some sort of electromagnetic or microwave radiation, radiating on a very precise combination of frequencies at the same time, having unusual and sometimes counter-intuitive effects. The best-known was its effect on sakuradite-based systems, which it could render inoperative so long as the Gefjun field-emitting device was active.

His enhancements were full of sakuradite. It was the only way to make them work, at least with Britannian technology.

The red knightmare landed in front of him, standing just outside the Gefjun field's area of effect. An instant later a black and gold knightmare landed next to it, one Jeremiah recognized as the _Shinkiro_. The sight of it was a cold knife twisting in his gut, for he knew who generally piloted it.

The cockpit cracked open, and a figure stood up. Jeremiah made it out to be a youth of about eighteen, with black hair.

"Orange-kun!" the youth hailed, calling him by the hated nickname. "There's something I wish to discuss with you!"

* * *

Sancia was hissing with frustration as she dashed through the trees her companions close behind her. That…_woman_ had defeated her, humiliated her, and to make matters worse was keeping Gottwald tied up.

That idiot Gottwald. She couldn't for the life of her figure out why VV had given him command of the mission. The man had no experience in covert ops, and completely the wrong personality for it in any case. Sending in the girls disguised as students had been _her_ idea, and it had worked about as well as could be expected. But, of course, someone had seen them and sounded the alarm. The enemy had responded fast, much faster than Gottwald had expected.

Fortunately she had a spare gun. She had it ready, taking point ahead of the group as they hurried between the academy buildings. All she could do now was find a way out and around to the getaway van, and with any luck they could slip away before the enemy could organize a cordon or pursuit.

As she considered that point, she decided she would leave Gottwald behind. It was the least he deserved for such a stupid plan, even if VV had put him in charge.

She held that thought as they approached the stadium, two figures rounding the corner in front of her. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the dark blue uniforms, and the black armour.

"Armed police!" one of them yelled in Japanese, raising his handgun. Sancia fired in reflex, the shot hitting the policeman full in the chest, pitching him backwards. His companion dropped back around the corner, screaming into his comm. High-pitched screams and thundering footsteps came from inside the stadium.

Sancia gave another hiss of frustration. She knew there would be armed police around, a number of them having been assigned to guard the campus against those Japanese who objected to Zero's favourable treatment of the school and its students. What was more, she knew that they would move quickly once the alarm was sounded. This was only going to get harder.

She turned left, leading the group back towards the main buildings. They reached the main path, turned left over a bridge that crossed the ornamental river. Before them she could see the courtyard between the main buildings, its paths lined with tall trees. Knowing there would likely be more police behind, she led the team onward, along the main path past a long, low building. To her right was the assembly hall and clock tower, and beyond that one of the playing fields.

As they ran along the wide path, two more armed policemen emerged from behind the assembly hall, guns at the ready. Sancia whipped up her handgun, a quick burst dropping one of the policemen. The other readied to fire, only to fall in turn, a crackle of gunfire accompanying his demise. The group paused, wondering what awaited them.

Two men, wearing the stereotypical suits and dark glasses of OSI agents, emerged from where the late policemen had come, carrying short carbines. Sancia found it in her heart to forgive their choice of clothing as she led the group towards them.

"OSI!" one of them barked. "You've got the Prince?"

"He's here!" Sancia gestured at the still-unconscious Faramond. "Come on! We've got a van waiting!"

"No chance! They've got the place surrounded! You'll have to go via the water tunnels!"

"All right!" Sancia glanced around her small group, as Lucretia and Dalque snatched up the dropped handguns. "Lead the way!"

The agents took point, leading them down a cloister that ran alongside the inner courtyard. They turned right, following the cloister along, to their left an open space with a smaller building that stood parallel to the main building. Ahead of them as they left the cloister was another path, and across it another cluster of trees. At that moment, it seemed like their luck was holding.

The moment passed. Gunfire flashed from the trees, bullets pitting the stonework.

"Back the other way!" Sancia yelled, as one of the agents returned fire with his carbine. "Give me the girl!" This last she snapped at the nameless woman, who quickly handed her the unconscious Tomoyo. Sancia wrapped her free arm around the girl, holding her in front as a shield. She was expendable, after all. The nameless woman, the two girls carrying Faramond, and the nameless agent rounded the corner and headed back the way they had come. Sancia made to follow.

"Hold it!" a voice barked from her right. She whipped round to see a tall, thin woman with bronze skin and silver hair advancing slowly upon her from the main building, a Japanese military-issue handgun held level, aimed at her heart.

"Baroness Nu!" the agent exclaimed, taken by surprise.

"Agent Conn," Villetta replied, continuing to advance. "Who is this woman?"

"Drop your gun!" Sancia shrieked, holding Tomoyo in front and putting her gun to the girl's head. "Drop it! Or I'll kill her!"

"Agent Conn!" Villetta repeated the name, her aim as unwavering as her gaze. "Secure that woman!"

"No, Baroness." Agent Conn levelled his carbine at Villetta, causing her to stop short. "I can't do that."

"Agent Conn! What are you doing!" Villetta's cold visage was replaced with confusion. "I'm in charge of this mission!"

"We have orders, Baroness," Conn replied coldly. "Orders to assist. We cannot leave Prince Faramond here."

"I was told of no orders!"

"That's because you were not to know, Baroness."

Villetta was momentarily stunned, fear and anger warring within her.

"All right," she muttered, dropping the gun. "Now let her go."

"I'm not going to do that," Sancia replied. "She is too valuable a hostage."

"She is my student!" Villetta exclaimed, horrified by their ruthlessness and ashamed that she could be so easily fooled. "She is innocent! There's no honour in this!"

"Honour?" Sancia shifted her aim from Tomoyo's head to Villetta's. "I've never heard the word." Villetta saw her finger twitch.

Then she was flying sideways, blood spurting from her temple. An instant later she heard the pistol crack. Agent Conn shifted his aim, but Villetta was already moving, dropping to the ground and grabbing her gun. She fired, her bullets thudding into his chest and throwing him against the wall. He slumped down, the wall behind him splattered with gore. Villetta glanced around, wondering who had saved her.

"Are you all right, Baroness?" Her head snapped round, following the voice towards the figure of a young boy, hurrying from behind the storage shed. He had brown hair and purple eyes, and a gun in his hand.

"Rolo?" The boy ignored her, heading straight for Tomoyo, who had fallen free of her late kidnapper to lie sprawled on the grass. As Rolo lifted her up, her eyes fluttered open.

"Rolo-san?"

"Yes, it's me, Daidouji-san." Rolo smiled, a warm and genuine smile that Villetta had never seen on his face before. This was not the cold, ruthless young boy she had known when she arrived.

"Did you…?"

"I did," Rolo confirmed, helping the girl with the long black hair to her feet. "Lady Kaguya is worried about you."

* * *

The kidnappers dashed back along the cloister, not daring to think about the gunshots behind them. They turned left, continuing along the cloister parallel to the assembly hall.

A shot rang out, and Lucretia fell down with a shriek of pain.

"Go on!" Dalque yelled, passing Faramond to the other agent. "Get out of here!" The agent and the nameless woman obeyed, hurrying across the path towards the clock tower. Dalque dropped to her knees beside her friend, wincing at the blood seeping into her pink gymslip from a hole at her hip.

"Dalque, go on," Lucretia croaked. "I can't walk. You have to go."

"I'm not leaving you here!" Dalque pulled off her tie and pressed it to the wound.

"You have to. The mission…" The girl fell silent at the sound of a click. Both looked up to see another girl, dressed as they were, advancing slowly towards them, handgun at the ready. She had light-brown hair tied in pigtails, and eyes as cold as neutron stars.

"Give it up," Alice said, her voice as cold as her gaze. "Both of you."

"Alice…" Lucretia whispered, recognizing her. "You…"

"If you want her to get help," Alice hissed, "tell me what's going on."

"What do you mean?" Dalque snapped back, irritated. "Can't you see she's bleeding to death?"

"Tell me who _he_ is!" Alice demanded, apparently unmoved. "Tell me what you want him for!"

"Dalque," croaked Lucretia, her face growing pale. "Don't tell her." For what seemed like an eternity, Dalque glared up at her one-time comrade.

"He is the holy Messiah," she hissed, as if begrudging every word. "He shall lead us in battle against the Unholy Trinity. He shall redeem all humanity, by the power of the one true God."

"Spare me the claptrap!" Alice sneered. "I want answers, not dogma!"

"Then we both need to find him," Dalque insisted, a plan forming in her mind. "Help me get Lucretia to him, and you'll get your answers!"

"How!"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you!" Dalque's lip curled in frustration. "You'll have to trust me just this once!"

"Trust you?" Alice looked as though she was going to burst out laughing. "Fine. But first give me your gun." Dalque glared at her, but handed over the handgun. Alice slid it into the waistband of her gymslip, then took Lucretia's right arm over her shoulders. Dalque took her left, and they hurried off towards the clock tower, and the forest beyond.

* * *

"Lelouch Lamperouge!" roared Jeremiah, frustration and pain making his voice hoarse.

"Jeremiah Gottwald," the youth replied, stepping down from the ascension cable onto the grass. "You will answer my questions."

"You…!" Jeremiah struggled, raging against his paralysis, yearning to clamp his hands around the traitor's throat.

"Tell me what I want to know, and the pain stops," Lelouch went on, his voice level and calm, as Sayoko got gingerly to her feet. "Where is the Order located? Where is VV?"

"You are the one who will talk!" Jeremiah growled. Lelouch's eyes bulged in surprise as, shaking and trembling, Jeremiah forced himself to his feet.

"Because I have…my reasons!" He forced one leg forward, then another. "I am determined…to see my loyalty…through!" By some superhuman will he drove himself forward, so very slowly. "I will know the truth! Once and for all!"

"But how!" Lelouch flinched, even as Sayoko limped to his side. "He shouldn't be able to move at all!"

"Why Lelouch!" Jeremiah looked ready to collapse, but still he came. "Why did you adopt the role of Zero? Why did you turn against your homeland, and your Emperor!"

In that instant, the shock on Lelouch's face was replaced by fury.

"I did it…because I am Lelouch vi Britannia!" Jeremiah froze. The shock of the words broke whatever mental force had kept his legs working, and he fell once again to his knees.

"My father the Emperor let my mother be killed!" Lelouch snarled. "He took Nunnally's legs, and her eyes, and both our futures! He forced his children, my brothers and sisters, to squabble and fight until they knew nothing else! He allowed my nephew Faramond to suffer unspeakable cruelty at the hands of his own mother!" His teeth gritted, his jaw trembled, his fists clenched at his sides.

"I know."

The words were barely more than a whisper, but Lelouch heard them, even over the crackle of the Gefjun field. Sensing his mood, Sayoko made a throat-cutting gesture at the _Guren_. Finally, mercifully, the pain stopped.

"I know…because I was there." Jeremiah managed to raise his head, and Lelouch was struck by the shame and remorse in his one good eye. "My first assignment was to guard her. Lady Marianne…whom I loved…and respected." Blood ran from his false eye, down the brass faceplate. "I failed her…and her children…"

"So you founded the Purists…"

"I couldn't follow through with my loyalty." Tears ran from his good eye, matching those of blood from the other. "I couldn't repay her for trusting me, for giving me a chance, even after…" He trailed off, his anguish suddenly replaced with a strange, almost beatific smile.

"That's why you became Zero, isn't it." He reached out a faltering hand. "It was for her sake..." He trailed off.

"Jeremiah." Lelouch stepped forward, bending down to take the older man by the shoulders. "I have need of your loyalty once again." He looked straight into Jeremiah's eyes, one real, one enhanced. "I need you to help me stop this."

"My Prince…"

* * *

When Faramond awoke, he was surrounded by trees.

This was quite bewildering, and it took him a moment to work out what had happened. He realised that he must be in the forest that surrounded the Academy buildings, and that whoever had tazered him a moment ago had brought him there.

He stood up, having been laid against a tree, and looked around to see if anyone was there.

There was only one person, kneeling before him in apparent supplication. It was a woman in her mid thirties, with short black hair and an angular face turned down towards the ground. He was sure he had seen it before.

"Where am I?" he asked. "Who are you? Why was I brought here?"

"To protect you, my Prince. Please forgive me."

Faramond felt a cold knife twist in his gut. He knew that voice. He knew it very well. It was a voice that had haunted his nightmares for almost nine years.

The woman looked up, looking him in the face, and his heart stopped.

"Mother?" The word was barely audible, for he could barely speak. His entire being seemed to have frozen, seizing up in horror, disbelief, and longing. He could only back away, pressing against the tree behind him.

"Please do not call me that, holy Messiah." The voice was the same, but not the syntax, or the manner. "I am not worthy to be called your mother."

"But…"

"There is much you have not been told, my Prince." The woman's manner was respectful, even reverent. "You were denied the truth by others, never told all the facts."

"Then tell me!" Faramond blurted out. "Tell me why! Why did you…_why did you…_!"

He could not say it. The words would not come, but the memories did. The memory of pain, the memory of fear.

"My name is Sophia Sforza," the woman began. "I was born into the noble Sforza family, a house as cruel as it was selfish. Through all my miserable days, I yearned to serve a higher calling, a cause greater than myself. When I was invited by the Office of Special Intelligence to become an agent, I found it."

She paused, and Faramond saw a flicker of something else in her countenance. Was it wistfulness?

"But a greater honour was in store for me, more than I dared hope for, more than I deserved. His Majesty the Emperor, your grandfather, called upon me to perform a mission of the greatest importance. The mission…was to bear you."

"I carried you in my womb, nine moons under my beating heart," Sophia went on. "The chosen one, fathered by his Highness Prince Odysseus. I gave birth to you, and was permitted to be your mother." She paused again.

"His Majesty rewarded me for my part in your coming. By his divine power he remade my life. He made your father and I lovers, and then husband and wife. He made me a Princess, gave me a home, and a child.

"But…something went wrong." Sophia lowered her head, shaking. "My heart was imperfect, ungrateful. I knew that I loved my husband, and that he loved me, but some part of me…rebelled. I loved him, but I did not know why. I could not be happy, no matter how much I had, no matter how blessed I was. I was haunted by it, tormented by it, I…" She clutched her shoulders, as if willing the shaking to stop. "I hurt you…holy Messiah…"

"Why do you call me messiah?" Faramond managed to ask, through the lump in his throat. "I don't understand."

"It is why you were born, my Prince." Sophia looked up again, and Faramond almost recoiled at the fervour in her eyes. "I was tasked to bear you for a divine purpose. The Emperor decreed that you would be the one to spread the word, to help humanity understand."

"But…"

"My Prince, I cannot ask you to forgive my crimes. I can only ask you to trust me, this one last time. I beg you to come with me, so that I can bring you to the Order, to be…"

"Not so fast!" Mother and son looked to see a man, dressed in a dark suit and dark glasses, standing over them with a short carbine.

"Agent Gates," Sophia said in a low voice.

"You've lost your touch, Agent Sforza," Gates commented, "if you thought you could get rid of me that easily."

"Gates, this isn't the time," Sophia insisted, fear and frustration in her eyes. "We have to go, now!"

"You're not going anywhere," Gates replied, aiming the carbine straight at her. "I shall be the one to rescue his Highness."

"Then I can't let you live." Sophia's left armed flicked outward, and Gates gagged as a sharp blade penetrated his throat. He fell back, carbine blazing, the bullets throwing Sophia back in a mist of blood. She crashed into a nearby tree and lay still.

* * *

Alice gritted her teeth at the sound of gunfire. She whipped up her handgun, pointing it left, then right, searching for threats.

"Give me my gun back!" Dalque demanded, from the other side of a semi-conscious Lucretia. "They're out there!"

"No," Alice replied coldly. They continued on through the trees, lugging Lucretia between them, until they reached a clearing.

All three recognized the agent from before, sprawled dead on the ground with a throwing knife embedded in his throat. Opposite him was the female agent, whose name they had not spoken, lying collapsed against a tree. Her chest was a mass of bullet holes, from which blood dripped to pool on the ground around her. There could be no doubt that she was dead.

And between them…

"Faramond!" Alice called. But the boy did not respond. He stood where he was, staring at the dead woman.

"Hey!" Alice called again, letting go of Lucretia so Dalque could set her down. "You okay!"

Slowly, stiffly, Faramond turned his head towards them. Droplets of blood ran down his face, and his eyes were blank and expressionless. The sight made Alice's skin crawl.

"Messiah!" Dalque called out, cradling a pale Lucretia. "She's hurt! She needs your power!"

"What power!" Alice demanded, incredulous. "What the…!"

Then Faramond wandered towards them, eyes fixed on the still-bleeding wound in Lucretia's side. He squatted down beside her, then laid a pale hand over the wound, palm pressed to the bloody hole. Alice's brow furrowed as she watched, wondering what he thought he was doing.

Faramond withdrew his hand. It was covered in blood. Alice and Dalque craned their necks to look at the wound.

There was no more blood. There was only a dark red crust, over livid scar tissue.

Dalque stared at Faramond in what might have been wonder. Alice glanced at Lucretia, and saw that some colour had returned to her face. Her eyes glistened with tears.

"You…_are_ the one," she breathed.

"But…" Alice was dumbstruck. What she had seen made no sense at all. How could someone…

She dropped down to catch Faramond as he slumped against her. He was breathing heavily, and felt worrying light in her arms.

"What the hell was that!" She glanced at Dalque, who returned her gaze with a smile she found _very_ unsettling.

"I told you," Dalque replied. "He's the Messiah."

___**Ashford Academy, a few hours later**_

* * *

The atmosphere in the Student Council meeting room was tense. Outside, darkness had fallen, leaving only the elegant lamps and military floodlights to illuminate the campus.

Lelouch stood by the window, staring out over the campus, trying to gather his thoughts.

"Well, Lulu," Milly commented behind him. "You haven't lost your touch when it comes to wreaking havoc." Lelouch did not reply. He could find no words with which to reply.

"Well you'll be pleased to know that those three police officers were the only casualties," Milly went on. "And considering what I've put them through over the years, a mere incursion by gun-toting spies isn't going to bother the student body _that_ much. But…" Lelouch steeled himself, and turned to face her. Milly regarded him with a look of indulgent amusement. A short distance away stood Rivalz, looking as if the bottom had fallen out of his world. A younger girl, whose name was Alice, stood a little further away with her arms folded, glaring at him.

"Milly." Lelouch's voice was low. "It's because I put Faramond here. If you want me to remove him…"

"You'll do no such thing!" Milly exclaimed, in feigned shock. "I'm not so cowardly as that. I could never turn away one of your beloved kin, be he a lowly pauper or a prince of the royal house." There was a twinkle in her eye, and Lelouch's stomach churned.

His secret was out.

He had tried to keep everything under control. He had just been in the process of explaining everything to Milly when Shirley came storming in, screaming that he was Zero, that he had killed her father, and that he had used some sort of mind-controlling power on her. Kallen had managed to drag her off to another room, where they were having a confrontation of their own. But Rivalz had been there. He had heard everything. It was only thanks to the walls being sound-proofed, and there being no one else in the Student Council building, that his secret was not all over the campus.

It was bad. It was worse than it had ever been. Lelouch knew, with a sinking feeling, that he would have to take them into his confidence, at least up to a point. Using their geass to forbid them to remember was no solution, not against an enemy that could build a device to undo it. He was going to have to trust them, and he wasn't entirely sure he could. It was bad enough that Shirley had spilt _his_ secret, but Alice had seen _Faramond_ use some kind of power. From what she had said, immediately after Shirley's outburst, he had healed the bullet wound suffered by one of the girls involved in his attempted kidnapping. He had seen the healed entry and exit wounds himself, and knew the girl was telling the truth. Medically there was no explanation.

But he, Lelouch, had a pretty shrewd idea of what it was.

"I'm grateful, Milly," he said, and meant it. "I can't ask any more of you than what you've already given."

"You don't ask for enough, Lulu," Milly admonished mildly. "As hard as it is to believe, I _am_ on your side. I would have thought you'd understand that by now." Lelouch did not reply, but turned instead to Rivalz. His old friend stared at the ground, shoulders hunched.

"Rivalz…"

"What are you, Lelouch?" Rivalz voice was hoarse, as if from weeping, but not as harsh as Lelouch expected. "I thought you were my friend. But now I find I barely know you." He paused, and managed to look Lelouch in the eyes. Lelouch barely stopped himself from flinching.

"Listen, I don't care about the politics, or what you did as Zero! I'm just an ordinary guy, and I don't have any answers! I don't care if you're a prince, or if you've got some wield mind-controlling power! That's not what's burning me up inside!"

"Then…!"

"It's the lying we find so hurtful, Lulu." Milly's face turned suddenly serious. "We're the nearest thing you have to friends, yet you never bothered to confide in us. You never told us anything about yourself, and you wouldn't let Nunnally or Faramond either."

"I dared not," Lelouch replied, his voice hoarse with shame. "I couldn't risk it."

"Why not!" Rivalz snapped, his eyes blazing with anger and betrayal. "You were my best friend! I wouldn't have given your secrets away! I wouldn't have blabbed it in the cafeteria! What do you take me for!"

"I was trying to protect you!" The anguish in Lelouch's cry brought Rivalz up short. "You don't know…you don't know…" He turned away, shoulders hunched.

"You think it's all about you, don't you Lulu," Milly cut in. "You think you have to resolve everything on your own, and bear everything on your own."

"You don't know what they're capable of," Lelouch growled. "The people I'm up against will do _anything_ to get their way. I…if I couldn't protect you, then couldn't let you know anything you could be forced to reveal."

"Oh my," Milly quipped, "how ghoulish."

"I never meant to hurt any of you," he whispered. "I never meant to drag you all into this." He turned to look at them again, tears pricking at his eyes. "I can't ask you to forgive me." There was silence.

"Lulu, for my part there's nothing to forgive," Milly replied calmly. "You do didn't do anything that I can say I wouldn't have done in your place. And you did nothing to me I wouldn't have taken on willingly. As for that little trick of yours, well, I take it as a reminder that the world is never quite as dull as it appears. Unfortunately, how everyone else feels is up to them."

After a moment's pause, Alice strode over, stopping in front of Lelouch. Her eyes, cold and hard, stared into his.

"I…can't hold it against you," she said. "If I did, I'd have to hold it against Nunnally, and I can't do that."

"You're her friend Alice, aren't you," Lelouch replied. "She was always talking about you." Alice faltered at his words, some of the hardness fading from her eyes. Lelouch wondered at what had passed between them.

"Nunnally…was the only person who tried to understand me," Alice went on, her words tinged with bitterness. "Everyone else thought I was violent, aggressive, ungrateful. But she saw something else in me. She saw what was wrong, even when I couldn't." She paused again. "She knew it was because of my sister."

"Yes," Lelouch replied gravely. "I heard about the clinic bombing. I'm…so very sorry."

"That's why I can't regret her being here," Alice went on, as if he had not spoken. "And I can't condemn her for keeping secrets, because I kept a secret from her too."

"That you were trained by the OSI," Lelouch said, already knowing the truth. "That they picked you to keep an eye on her. She would never hold that against you."

"I know."

"If I could ask you one favour, would you keep an eye on Faramond as you did with Nunnally."

"I would have done that anyway." Alice paused, and Lelouch had the impression of some momentous decision being made.

"About those two," she said eventually. "Dalque and Lucretia."

"Yes?"

"Please…go easy on them. The Order brainwashed them. They don't know what they're talking about." Lelouch was only mildly surprised by her sincerity.

"I won't hurt them," he replied gently. He was telling the truth, for he had no need whatsoever to physically harm them. "On that point…"  
"Yes Lelouch, I'll take them in," Milly cut in, with a feigned air of resignation and world-weariness. Lelouch turned towards Rivalz, who would not look him in the eye.

"Rivalz..."

"Don't take this the wrong way," Rivalz replied sullenly. "I…I don't know what to feel right now. I need to think it through."

"Very well." Lelouch headed for the door. "I want to talk to Faramond before I go."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Milly said pointedly. "You're not walking out of here without saying a word to Shirley."

"I wouldn't know what to say." Lelouch left without another word.

"I'll go check on Faramond," Alice said, following him out. That left Milly and Rivalz alone in the room.

"Oh all right, you big baby," Milly sighed, sliding her arms around Rivalz' shoulders and pulling him to her. "I'll hug you, but only this once."

* * *

"Why?" Shirley whispered, shivering with pent-up anger. "Why did you do it?"

"Because my real name is Kallen Kozuki," Kallen replied. "I'm Japanese, and I fought for my country. That's all."

"But it's not all!" Shirley snapped, rounding on her. "Do you know how many people you've hurt! How many you've killed! What did they do to deserve all that!"

"What did Japan do to deserve Britannia!" Kallen snapped back, enraged. "What did we do to deserve what your people did to us!" She clenched her fists as the fury rose within her. "Your kind burned our cities, slaughtered millions, drove us into ghettoes to starve and get sick!"

"My father had nothing to do with all that!" Shirley howled. "He came here to get a job! He came here to earn money, so there'd be food to eat and clothes to wear, and a school to go to! I wouldn't have anything otherwise! He didn't _like_ the Empire! No one does!"

"So you're ashamed of it!" Kallen retorted contemptuously. "The food you ate was grown on its farms. The clothes you wore, the trinkets you bought, were made in its factories. You lived under its military protection. And you were ashamed of it?"

"My father had nothing to do with all that!" Shirley wailed. "And we didn't have a choice anyway! It's all there was!"

"Exactly!" Kallen snapped. "You're all complicit, because Britannia makes you complicit!"

"And my father had to die for that! He had to die for your high-minded principles! You're no different from the Congress!"

Kallen gritted her teeth at the reference, though it had long preyed upon her mind. She had not known much about it until the zeppelin ride to Europe, when Lelouch had lent her his copy of _A Dream Denied: The Failure of the American Revolution_, which was banned in Britannia.

It was a new experience. The only knowledge she had of Britannian history had come entirely from Britannia's point of view, back when she was Kallen Stadtfeld. It had been curiously enlightening to see how others saw Britannia and its history. To many Europeans the leaders of the American Revolution had been great thinkers, whose ideas were beyond their time. To many Britannians, raised on a very different perspective, the revolutionaries were a pack of self-centred hypocrites, men who spoke of freedom yet owned slaves. The 'Congress', as Shirley had just put it, was an umbrella term used by many Britannians to refer to the revolutionary leadership, including such worthies as George Washington, Samuel Adams, and Benjamin Franklin, the man who for reasons lost to history betrayed them all.

Kallen knew what she meant. She knew that to Shirley, and so many Britannians, the Black Knights were nothing but bloodthirsty killers, men and women who slaughtered innocent people in the name of high-minded ideals like liberty and equality. She knew the words they put into Zero's mouth;

"_The tree of liberty must be watered with blood!"_

"_They are with us or against us!"_

"_All are guilty who do not resist evil!"_

"_No mercy for the slaves of tyrants!"_

Kallen also knew, though it sickened her, that she had once felt the same way.

"What were we supposed to do?" she hissed. "Live like animals? Don't we have a right to live with dignity?"

"What about Princess Euphemia?" Shirley demanded. "She never hated you! She never treated you like dirt! She loved every one you…and us too!"

"I know that! Don't you think I know that!"

"Then why did you kill her!"

"It wasn't us!" Kallen protested. "Tenryo acted on his own!" She paused, overcome by emotion.

"Maybe we didn't believe in her at first," Kallen went on. "Maybe we didn't believe she could do anything. But…that didn't mean we didn't _want _to believe."

"Okay fine," Shirley growled. "I just want to know why! Why did he kill my father!"

"Lelouch didn't kill your father!" Kallen protested. "We didn't even know he was there! That settlement was supposed to have been evacuated!" She hesitated, seeing that Shirley was not convinced, dreading what she knew she had to say.

"It was me! I killed him! I activated the device! The blood is on my hands!" She held Shirley's shocked, angry gaze. She would not back down from it. She would not deny her part in it. She had made her choice.

"He cried for you," she whispered.

Then, and only then, did Shirley falter. The fury fled from her face, replaced by shock.

"He cried for your father," she went on. "He cried for you, because he made you suffer without meaning to. Oh yes, I know. He told me about that guy Mao, and what he did to you." The mention of Mao made Shirley twitch, and Kallen regretted it.

"He…cried for me?"

"He was going crazy over you!" Kallen howled. "He couldn't live with himself! He couldn't bear that hurt someone he cared for! He's…he's just like that."

"He doesn't like killing people," she went on, feeling the need to say it. "A little while ago, he learned something, something tragic. It…broke him." Shirley stared into her eyes for a moment, then lowered her head, casting her eyes in shadow. Her countenance changed.

"So…you and Lulu…"

"Yes." There was little point in denying it.

"So…what was he like?" Shirley did not look up. "Was he gentle? Was he warm?"

Kallen did not know what to say. She did not know whether to be honest, or whether to keep silent. She found herself wishing that the two of them could have become true friends. It would feel less awkward if nothing else.

"He was…inexperienced."

Kallen immediately felt foolish, and wondered what had possessed her to say it. She braced herself for the anger, for the foul language, for the fury of a young woman scorned and denied. For what seemed like an eternity, nothing came.

"I…I didn't plan for it, Shirley," she said, nervously. "He needed someone. He needed to get past all that pain, all that grief. I…couldn't let him suffer any more."

"Do you love him?" The question caught Kallen momentarily off-guard.

"I…don't know," she replied, the only honest answer she could give. "Sometimes I think I do…but he hasn't said anything since it happened."

"Well," Shirley looked up. "I don't know either. And I don't know if I ever will."

* * *

As Alice approached the infirmary, she was surprised to find Tomoyo standing outside.

Standing by the door, crying.

"Hey," she said mildly, walking up to her. "You okay?" The other girl did not reply. Alice wondered what she could be so upset about.

"All right," she sighed. "What did he say?"

"It's not what he said," Tomoyo replied, sniffing. "It's…" She trailed off, and looked away. Alice's brow furrowed in irritation. She had nothing against Tomoyo Daidouji, but she did not really consider her a friend either. She did not want to have to deal with her relationship problems, not with everything else she had on her plate.

"Well what was it?" she asked, trying not to sound terse. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but it seemed like you two get on pretty well."

"I love Faramond," Tomoyo said quietly. "Really I do. It's just…it's just that…"

"You're tired of him?"

"No!" _That _got a reaction out of her. "I could never be tired of him! It's not that!"

"Well then what!"

"He doesn't understand!" Tomoyo wailed. "He doesn't understand how I feel! How he _makes_ me feel! He doesn't know how much it hurts! Watching him…watching him _suffer_ like that!"

"Explain?"

"I wish he could see himself the way I do," Tomoyo went on, somewhat subdued. "The way other people do. He thinks he has no right to anything…not to be loved, not even to live."

"Self-pity," Alice commented dryly.

"It's not that. Not really." Tomoyo paused. "He's completely selfless…but…"

"You don't want him to be selfless."

"Something's haunting him. Something terrible, something…something that _woman_ told him. But he won't tell me what it is!"

Alice felt a twinge of conscience. She knew what that something was, for she had seen it with her own eyes. But Tomoyo had not seen. There was no way _she_ would know about it. And from the looks of things, Faramond had not found a way to tell her.

She was not entirely sure what to think of Faramond. He didn't seem like a bad kid, not like some she'd known. He was good-natured, self-effacing, always polite and nice to everyone. He'd gone down well in the class because of it, the same way Nunnally had.

And he was more like Nunnally than perhaps he realised. Tomoyo's words had confirmed Alice's suspicion that Faramond was _that _kind of guy. He was the kind that insisted on handling everything on his own, who never really trusted anyone, who shared anything with anyone. The selfless martyr type. Alice couldn't blame Tomoyo for finding him hard to deal with.

"Tomoyo, listen." Alice cleared her throat. "That guy isn't my type. He's okay, but I don't go for flaky, girly guys like that. But he's not trying to hurt you, that's one thing you can be sure of." Tomoyo stared at her, wide-eyed. Alice steeled herself.

"The fact is, he does know something, and it's pretty bad. If he's the kind of guy I think he is, then he's trying to protect you from it."

"I don't want him to protect me!" Tomoyo wailed. "I want him to…!"

"You bitch!"

The word was a shriek of anathema, echoing down the empty corridor. Both girls spun to see another girl standing a short distance away, by the other door into the infirmary. She had long blonde hair, and an expression of utter, soul-shrivelling hatred.

"You bitch!" Ekaterina Sforza snapped again. "You lying, deceitful, manipulative bitch!"

"What's this about, Sforza!" Alice demanded, as Ekaterina stormed forward to confront a bewildered Tomoyo. Ekaterina ignored her.

"You knew!" she snarled. "You knew the whole time! You were keeping a Prince all to yourself!"

"What did you want me to say?" Tomoyo asked, regaining some of her composure. "He didn't want anyone to know. He was afraid they would reject him if they did."

"You wanted him all to yourself!" Ekaterina snapped. "You have no idea, do you! You have _no_ idea what you've done to me!"

"What the hell are you talking about!" Alice spluttered. This was unlike anything Ekaterina had pulled before.

"I was listening!" the blonde girl hissed. "I was listening from inside the storage room! I heard everything he told you! I heard him tell you about his mother!"

"I don't understand," Tomoyo protested.

"His mother is Sophia Sforza, of the House of Sforza! _My aunt_!" Tomoyo gasped, and Alice felt sick inside.

"My cousin!" Ekaterina went on, shaking with anger. "My blood! The only family I have! And you kept him from me!"

"Ekaterina-san," Tomoyo tried to speak, "I…"

"Don't think I don't know what you want!" Ekaterina leaned forward, causing Tomoyo to back away, hands clutched in front. "Don't think I don't know what you _really_ want! You swanny around, acting all sweet and pure, but even _you_ have ambition! You want him for his crown! You want to be _Empress_!"

"That's…that's not true!" Tomoyo was shaking, her face pale. "You don't understand…"

"Oh I understand! You could do worse than become Empress of Britannia! All the money, all the clothes, all the jewellery, all the _power_ you could possibly want! And all those high-and-might Britannians bowing and scraping! The people who destroyed your country abasing themselves for favours!" She paused, breath hissing through gritted teeth.

"I don't blame you for wanting to avenge your country," she went on, her voice now soft. "But it still makes you a whore."

Tomoyo gave a whimper, and ran away along the corridor.

"I hope you're satisfied," Alice growled, rounding on the girl she despised.

"What I said was the truth," Ekaterina retorted, sounding a little more pleased with herself than Alice could tolerate. "Now, why don't you go and uproot some trees or something, while I speak with _my cousin_."

"I'm not letting you in there," Alice snarled back. "I'm not going to let you manipulate him."

"You've got no right!"

"No, _you_'ve got no right!" Alice jabbed her finger at Ekaterina. "You're as twisted as your damn family!"

"At least I've _got_ a family," Ekaterina hissed. "And you're not going to take him away from me!"

"If he's really your family," Alice retorted, "you'd accept the one he loves."

"I'll never accept her!" Ekaterina shrieked. "She's nothing but a gold-digger! I'll never accept that…!" He stopped herself suddenly.

"That what?" Alice wondered. "Aren't you going to say it?"

"That…_Eleven._" Silence. Alice felt the anger drain from her, replaced by something else. Something, in its own way, darker.

"He'll never accept you with that attitude," she said, calmly. "Take your bad nature somewhere else."

"Damn you!" Ekaterina looked about to explode. "Let me…!"

"Ekaterina Sforza!"

"What!" Ekaterina spun round, then paused in surprise as Lelouch came striding along the corridor, followed by a tall, green-haired man Alice had heard him call Jeremiah. Lelouch had one hand held theatrically over his face.

"Would you kindly," Lelouch drew the hand across his face, revealing his right eye, "go and take a bath in the ornamental river." Something happened, though Alice was not sure what. Ekaterina suddenly seemed to calm down.

"Yes," she said, suddenly cheerful. "I'll go and take a bath in the river." Alice watched in mild astonishment as the girl skipped way along the corridor.

"By the way," Lelouch said, as he stepped up to the door. "Since I'm trusting you enough not to erase your memory, I need you to keep her away from my nephew."

"Don't worry," Alice replied. "I will."

_**

* * *

**_

_**Pendragon, Holy Empire of Britannia, 14**__**th**__** July 2018 ATB**_

The Chancellery was one of the most beautiful buildings in all of Pendragon.

It was located in the old government district, and built in the neo-Arthurian style popular a hundred years earlier. It was not the original, the former building having been destroyed in a rebel air attack towards the end of the North-South war, giving the gesture an air of efficacy that belied its futility. The current building was no less magnificent, no less uplifting, for having been a replacement.

The design was simple but effective, with two wings either side of a main atrium. Each wing housed one house of the Britannian legislature, one being the House of Lords, the other the Senate. Within those two halls, the business of government was debated, policy hammered out, the fates of millions decided. Every few days a new motion would be passed by the Senate, whereupon it would travel across the atrium to be debated by the House of Lords. The Peers, some noble-born, some appointed worthies, would on most occasions send it back again, covered in proverbial red ink with the words **DO IT AGAIN **scrawled on the bottom, whereupon the Senate would discuss whether or not to adopt the Peers' suggestions. If yes, it was understood that the Lords would pass the bill without further ado, whereupon it would borne away to the Imperial palace a few miles across the city, to be placed upon the desk of the Emperor, there to await his approval, and his signature.

On most occasions, this was the entirety of it. On others it was not. Sometimes the Senators did not wish to see the bill they had spent so long debating and constructing through compromise and underhand dealing tossed back at them like an unsatisfactory essay. Sometimes the Peers thought that a bill, even with the amendments they had suggested, could use some further modification, enraging the Senators even more.

Only one could resolve such impasses. Only one could break the deadlock between the Crown's chosen and the people's elected. That someone was the Chancellor, the Emperor's proxy, the one who was his voice within the halls of government.

It was to Schneizel el Britannia that the responsibility fell.

From the elegantly-appointed observation gallery, Schneizel could clearly see the Senate chamber, the seats unoccupied, the senate being in recess. Even so the chamber was not empty, for men and women in the green uniforms of the Senate Special Service moved along the rows of seats, examining them carefully in case someone had left something unpleasant. At the same time, Schneizel knew, men and women in the brown uniforms of the House of Lords Special Service were doing likewise.

Soon the senators would return, for the final sitting of the day. Few would dare miss it, for it was the final debate, and vote, on a matter of the utmost urgency.

The motion before the House; That the Chancellor should negotiate with the government of the state of Japan, formerly Area 11, for the establishment of commercial relations.

Negotiate. With the only Area to throw off Britannian rule since the Area system was established.

This one was going to be big.

"I'm sure I don't have to remind you, Senator, how important this Bill is."

"I am quite aware, your Highness" Senator George McKinley insisted, just a _little_ too forcefully. "I believe I can bring enough of the undecided senators over to our side to pass the Bill. But it will require a…concession."

"Name it." Schneizel felt sick to his stomach, for he already knew.

"FLEIJA, your Highness." McKinley was visibly trying to control his face. "I'm afraid word of your new weapon has gotten around. Certain…_questions_ have been raised as to why it has not been deployed."

"Senator." Schneizel took a breath, choosing his words. "FLEIJA is a weapon of unprecedented power, one that I believe should not be used precipitously."

"I understand, your Highness." McKinley's narrow face appeared sincere. "Unfortunately, we can be sure the Nativists will not, and will not want to. They will see only a weapon capable of terrifying the EU into submission. They will argue that one strike on a major European city, such as London, Paris, or Berlin, will be more than sufficient. Such an argument has merit, your Highness."

"Only because you do not know its power, Senator."

Schneizel knew its power. The knowledge of it lingered, a cold lump in the pit of his stomach, a memory that seemed to draw all hope, all cheer from his soul, leaving only an empty void. Much like FLEIJA itself.

But it had been worse for others. Schneizel would never forget the look on Professor Robert Oppenheimer's face after the test detonation, and he could hardly blame the man.

He remembered the flash, the radiance that seemed to fill the world, the roar like a thousand thunderclaps. The light that blinded, the heat that burned, the wind that swept all before it. Then nothing.

And he would never forget the note Oppenheimer had left him. The note they had brought to him, when they found him dead in his quarters. The note was his final confession, the words searing themselves upon his soul.

Assuming he still had one.

"Your Highness, please understand," McKinley pleaded. "This is the only concession likely to sway enough of them. We must give them this much, or we will never pass the Bill. Please, your Highness."

Schneizel remained silent for a long time.

"We have four devices ready for use," he said eventually. "Will that be sufficient?"

"One alone would be enough," McKinley enthused. "But four will sway them for certain!"

"Very well," Schneizel allowed him a slight smile. "You may inform the Senate that four functional FLEIJA devices will be made available as soon as they are required."

"Thank you, your Highness." McKinley bowed, and left the room.

"Which devices do you intend to give them, your Highness?" Kanon asked, perturbed at the thought of having to hand over four of the precious FLEIJA units.

"Those last four of the test batch," Schneizel replied. "They don't need to know about the rest."

"We could deactivate them before delivery, your Highness."

"No Kanon, we dare not." Schneizel's countenance darkened. "They'll almost certainly want a test detonation, and they'll pick one at random on the off chance that we do as you suggest. If the device fails to detonate, I will loose what little credibility I have left."

"As you wish, your Highness."

"Incidentally, Kanon, how are the preparations proceeding?"

"The first batch of _Fafnir_s is ready, your Highness. _Jormungand_ is ready, and _Kraken_ will be ready within a week. _Lotan_ and _Tiamat_ need two more weeks at the most."

"Very good, Kanon." Schneizel smiled a rueful smile. "So long as one of those four is active, my plan has a chance to succeed."

"It may not come to that, your Highness," Kanon insisted. "The Nativists won't be able to stop your negotiations, not if the bill passes."

"You assume the Nativists will respect the usual courtesies," Schneizel retorted, still smiling. "I fear they are not the sort to accept defeat graciously. What is more, I cannot be certain the negotiations with Japan's current government will meet expectations."

"You have never failed at diplomacy before, my Prince." Kanon's sudden familiarity gave Schneizel a moment's pause.

"Perhaps not," he admitted, allowing his most faithful follower a smile. "But I would not put it past Zero to move unexpectedly, as he did in Europe, and ruin all." He turned away from Kanon and leant on the window frame, glaring out over the senate chamber. "That man can wreak havoc with a word, and cast down nations with a thought."

Then, to his surprise, he felt Kanon's arms encircle his chest, and the warmth of his body against his back.

He could have chided his aide for the unbelievable impudence, even had him flogged. But Kanon Maldini was in no way a conventional young man, and Schneizel had known of Kanon's…_proclivities_ long before he took the delicate youth into his service. It had not been a problem then, and he was not inclined to do anything about it now. Especially not when he had other, more important things on his mind.

Unwanted memories arose unbidden. He saw a younger Kanon, sprawled on the grass outside the dormitory, blood on his chin and hate in his eyes. He remembered the whip clutched in his hand, the whistle and crack, the terror in all their eyes.

He wished he had not done it. He wished he had not flogged Kanon, even if it had brought the Northern Bulliac Dormitory into line. He wished he had chosen someone else.

"He won't succeed," Kanon whispered, his breath warm on Schneizel's ear. "I won't let him. I won't let him ruin what you dedicated your life to bring about. I won't let it all be for nothing."

Schneizel sighed inwardly, feeling the weight of his purpose. At times he felt as though he had pursued it all his life, allowing time for nothing else. No other priority, no other ambition, could be allowed to matter more.

He would save Britannia. He would save it from its own sins. He would save it from a world that hated it enough to destroy it utterly. He would save it from the hatred and greed that had driven it to conquer a third of the world. He would save his country from the fear that trapped it in darkness.

By replacing it with a different kind of fear.

With that fear, he would save the whole world.

He had divided up his soul, separated it into parts and places, compartments and contexts. He could love someone more than anything, and yet destroy that someone by his own hand, without a moment's hesitation. He had ordered legions of loyal, brave soldiers to their deaths, in a war that served a purpose other than victory. He had manipulated, lied, stolen, besmirched. And killed.

All for Britannia. All for the world. All for the future, by the least worst outcome.

Because he alone could do it. Because he could make a sacrifice of his own soul, and destroy those he loved.

When the stakes were as high as that, he could not be held back. He could not fall victim to the old cliché, in which his enemy put a knife to his loved-one's throat and bade him stay his hand. He could not be swayed, not even for the sake of those he loved most.

For their sake, and for the sake of all humanity, he would go on.

Schneizel stood where he was, hands behind his back, as the senators filed into the chamber.

**

* * *

**

**(Finally done. It took a long time, but I've had a lot on my plate recently. **

**You may have noticed that I gave Faramond a little more exposure than usual in this chapter. Of my two main OCs, Faramond appears to be far less popular than Magnus, and to be fair I can see why. As for his little tiff with Tomoyo, I reckoned their relationship could use a bit of a storm, since even Keiichi and Belldandy's romance did not run smooth. I thought it would make it more 'real', since even Tomoyo could only withstand so much of Faramond's angst. **

**If it seems a bit rushed, then that's my fault. I mishandled the early chapters of this story, meaning it took me ten chapters to get to Europe when it should have been done in no more than three. This has thrown the structure of the story, meaning I've had to cut some things out in order to keep the story going while maintaining the flow of the narrative. The primary casualties have been my main OCs, Faramond and Magnus. I took too long to get Faramond to Ashford, so some of his character development had to go. Also, I wasn't able to put in as many battle scenes involving EU troops as I would like. I hope this does not detract too much from your reading pleasure. **

**If it wasn't already obvious, Faramond's power is indeed a Geass, and I don't think I need to tell you where he got it from. Needless to say, Lelouch will be investigating this quite thoroughly, and I'm sure you all know where that will lead him. **

**I suppose I should explain about some of the other characters. Alice, Ekaterina, Sancia, Lucretia, and Dalque are all from the 'Nightmare of Nunnally' manga, for those who don't recognize them. Ekaterina is largely my own work, since she only appeared for a couple of pages in the manga, in which she bullies Nunnally. Dietlinde Eckart is based on the villain of the same name from 'Fullmetal Alchemist, Conquerer of Shamballa'.) **


	17. The Iniquity of Victory

**Chapter Seventeen: The Iniquity of Victory**

_He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God._

_Aeschylus_

_**Tokyo, Capital of Japan, 14**__**th**__** July 2018 ATB**_

They had never seen him like this.

The Black Knights leaders had harboured any number of feelings for their masked leader, ranging from awe to reluctant obedience to mistrust. They had never really been afraid of him, until they gathered in the HQ's meeting room the day after the failed kidnapping attempt. Though his trademark mask concealed his face, there could be no doubting his mood. Fury came off Zero in waves, seeming to reach into them and chill their hearts.

As Ougi Kaname took his seat, he got an idea how the underlings of the European dictators must have felt at times. The boss was angry, and would require careful management if heads were not to roll.

"_Minna_," Zero growled, once everyone was seated. "We are faced with a sudden and severe crisis. You are all no doubt aware of the incident at Ashford Academy yesterday. The attempted kidnapping failed, but in so doing it revealed a threat to all that we have fought and suffered to achieve. A threat unlike anything we have ever faced."

"Let me guess," Tamaki ill-advisedly interjected. "It involves Orange-kun there." He gestured at Jeremiah Gottwald, who sat at Zero's left hand. Gottwald regarded Tamaki coldly, perhaps irritated by the use of his unwanted nickname. No one else had said anything, but Ougi knew that they were disconcerted by the Britannian's presence.

"Jeremiah Gottwald," Zero gestured at the newcomer, "was the leader of a mission to kidnap Prince Faramond. He has since consented to assist us, for his own reasons. Before you bore me with your objections, I will reveal the true reason behind the attempt." He nodded to his aide, Lelouch Lamperouge, who sat at his left taking minutes on a laptop. Lelouch nodded, and touched his control panel.

"Send in Sergeant Tendo." There was consternation among the assembled officers as the door slid open to admit a hard-faced man in Black Knights uniform. Tendo strode around the table, standing to attention at the front.

"This is Sergeant Sosuke Tendo, Commando B Company," Zero introduced him. "As some of you may know, he was one of those wounded in the Battle of Brussels. Sergeant, show them." At the command, Tendo began unbuttoning his black jacket, and the white shirt underneath. Eyes widened, mouths dropped. Only Marshal Kyoshiroh Tohdoh maintained his dignity, though his eyes did not waver from the blotched, red flesh that covered Tendo's side.

Flesh, where there should have been bloody horror, a wound that should have taken weeks to heal.

"But…" Ougi spluttered. "How did…?"

"Sergeant," Tohdoh interjected brusquely. "Tell us what happened."

"I don't understand what happened sir," Tendo replied, his military demeanour tinged with uncertainty. Yesterday, Zero came to my room at the hospital, along with the Prince and a team of medics. My wounds were exposed, as the bandages were being changed. Zero had the Prince touch my wound and…" he trailed off, as if unwilling to say more. "I…I don't know what happened, but the next thing I knew, my wound was as it is now."

"Thank you sergeant, that will be all," Zero interjected, once Tendo had stopped. Tendo buttoned up his uniform, saluted, and exited the way he had come.

"If that does not convince you," Zero went on, "I have video evidence. So get it into your heads right now that these powers are real. Jeremiah here," he gestured at the taciturn cyborg, "will explain the rest."

"They call themselves the Order," Jeremiah began. He spoke in English, for he had never learnt more than a smattering of Japanese. "As far as I've been able to learn, they've existed for several centuries. Their purpose is to study these powers, which they refer to as _Geass._ For some time now, they have allied themselves to the Holy Empire of Britannia, providing Geass-equipped agents and assassins for their use."

"They wouldn't happen to include Rolo, would they?" Ougi asked darkly. Jeremiah glanced questioningly at Zero.

"Yes, Rolo was one of their agents, hence his abilities. He came over to my side having been sent to spy on me. You may be assured of his loyalty." No one spoke.

"You claim to know of these powers," Tohdoh spoke up, breaking the silence. "What are they? How did they come about?"

"I don't know," Jeremiah replied. "I only know that no two such powers are entirely alike."

"The Order poses an existential threat," Zero interjected. "To Japan, and to all who oppose Britannia. I have called you here because you needed to be made aware of what awaits us, when we go to destroy them." The officers kept silent. Their minds were in turmoil, but they could not bring themselves to enunciate their confusion, to shout out in denial, in confusion.

"Zero," Ougi forced himself to speak. "I'm not…leaving now might not be wise." Silence descended once again, like the calm before the storm, or the pause before the axe fell.

"Ougi," Zero said, his voice entirely level and calm. "Are you suggesting the sky will fall in if I leave the country?"

"Zero," it took all of Ougi's courage to reply, "this is not a good time. There have been…questions in the Provisional Diet." He could feel the gazes of his fellows boring into him, imploring him not to provoke Zero's wrath.

"Questions?" Zero paused. Ougi could feel his heart pounding. "What…questions?" Ougi cleared his throat. What had to be said had to be said.

"It's the sakuradite, Zero. They're get annoyed over how much you've been giving away recently. I know it's to strengthen our allies, but you must know how much it's worth. To be blunt, they want their cut."

That was the long and the short of it. Ougi didn't know the exact figures, but he knew enough to know that sakuradite was worth big money. Though Zero did not appear to have noticed, no doubt distracted by the mission to Europe, certain elements within the government were growing annoyed at how little of that money they were seeing. That Zero, a Shogun in all but name, had given so much of it to the Chinese Federation for free, and later at very reasonable rates, was bad enough. But offering nearly two hundred-thousand tons of it to the EU for free?

Ougi knew why Zero was doing it, and agreed completely. But he also knew that among the countless functionaries, bureaucrats, and hangers-on that made up the current Japanese government, there were plenty of leftovers from the old regime. They had been around when the Six Houses of Kyoto governed Japan from the shadows, bending all policy to their own ends, using the precious treasure to dictate global politics.

Though he never dared express it, Ougi hated them for it, and knew many other Japanese felt the same. Though it was Genbu Kururugi who had ultimately betrayed Japan to Britannia, he was very much the product of Kyoto's meddling, a man who had brought down his country rather than be their puppet a moment longer. It was Ougi's hope that such things would not happen again, that Zero's revolution would bring about a better, more just system.

It was what Naoto would have wanted.

"They want their cut," Zero hissed, something horrible in his tone. "They spend every waking hour filling their pockets with the nation's wealth, and they _want their cut_?"

"Yes, and it's more than that." There seemed little point in holding back. "There's a lot of controversy flying around the Chinese rearmament, and even more over the EU's new military technology." Ougi could hear what sounded like a sigh of exasperation.

"As I told them several times," the masked man growled, "Chinese rearmament is necessary while Britannia remains a threat. Also, I fail to see how the EU developing new military technology is a threat to us." The last comment caused a rumble of uncertainty among the officers.

"It seems that some of you disagree." Zero scanned his hidden eyes along the table, his subordinates resisting the urge to hide underneath. "Would you care to elucidate?"

"The Diet is _concerned_," Tohdoh spoke up, "that a rearmed Chinese Federation will pose a security risk in the future. Even after selling some of it to the EU, they possess a one-year sakuradite stockpile thanks to your…_generosity_."

"And you feel I should have been less generous?" If Tohdoh was intimidated, he did not show it.

"No. It was necessary from a strategic perspective. However, it is very likely that the Chinese will launch attacks against Areas 9 and 10 within the next month or so. The Diet would not take kindly to those countries being incorporated into the Chinese Federation, since this will leave us with no other regional allies."

"A concern they did not express back in 2010," Zero retorted with a sneer.

"Nonetheless, the EU's new military technology is potentially a problem. They have almost certainly created working MMI technology, going beyond anything we or the Britannians have demonstrated." As one, all present turned to Laksharta.

"It's a bit more complicated than that," she replied, after an infuriatingly long pause. "There seem to be two distinct variations, namely for the _Lupo_ and the _Charlemagne_. Just to make things even more interesting, they've completely revamped the design in both cases."

"In what way?" Tohdoh asked.

"Judging by the size and arrangement, they've gone for an armour approach," Laksharta went on. "The pilot literally _wears_ it, using an internal frame to move the knightmare by moving his or her own body."

"Sounds tricky to build," Ougi commented.

"It is. But it's an intuitive system, making it easier for a new pilot to adapt. As for the MMI we can rule out cybernetics, such as those used by our friend over there. Daidouji herself admitted that they adapted Angelic Layer technology, which in itself is quite impressive."

"But the _Charlemagne_ technology wasn't the same," Kallen insisted, speaking for the first time. "It can't have been. I saw that thing fight."

"So did I," Tohdoh agreed, his followers nodding likewise. "The _Charlemagne_ was even more responsive than the _Lupo_s were."

"That's where it gets _very_ interesting." There was a familiar twinkle in Laksharta's eye. "From what I know of Angelic Layer technology, there's no way they could have gotten much more out of it, at least with the baseline tech. They'd need to take it even further. They'd need to go for total immersion."

"Is that like…?" Tamaki asked.

"Yes." Laksharta smiled a particularly wicked smile. "Constantian's conscious mind was directly connected to the machine. He could move it like it was his own body."

"I think you see the issue, Zero," Tohdoh concluded. "A technology considerably superior to our own, giving the EU a significant advantage in knightmare combat. To be fair to the Diet, I would call that grounds for concern."

"What about those rayguns?" Tamaki pointed out. "Those…whatjamacallems?"

"Neutral particle beams," Laksharta answered.

"If anything," Tohdoh went on. "Their beam weaponry is a bigger concern than their knightmares."

"That beam saber he had was kinda nifty though," Tamaki commented with a grin. "I want one like that."

"I want to make myself abundantly clear," Zero interjected, his voice strangely calm. "There is no cause for concern regarding the EU or the Chinese Federation. That is because we have spent effort, a _great deal of effort_, building _positive relations_ with them. The Diet need only be concerned if they insist on returning to their pre-war mercantilism and bullying. I trust I am understood?" Silence.

"I take that as a yes. In the meantime our goal is the destruction of the Order. We reconvene tomorrow morning for the operational planning, and I expect all prior preparations to be complete by then. That will be all."

The meeting broke up, and Zero headed for the former Viceregal quarters, followed by Kallen and Jeremiah. CC was already there, gazing out of the window. He did not speak, not even when the door closed behind them.

"You did not tell them everything, my Prince," Jeremiah commented, a touch of reproach in his tone.

"It's hard enough for them to accept the existence of Geass," Zero replied, removing his mask. "Let alone everything else."

"I still can't believe it," Kallen said, pain in her eyes. "I can't believe…he would do something like this."

"Believe it," Lelouch growled. "He knew this would happen. He knew that there would be a war, and millions would die. He knew it, and he did it anyway. It was his plan all along." He leaned on the desk, shoulders hunched, shivering with anger.

"That's why he brainwashed us," he hissed. "His black Bishop and black Knight, that's what he said. He needed us to keep the war going. Everything we…everything _I've_ done, was all a part of his plan. He wanted this war, and somewhere along the line he decided I would be the perfect tool. I've set the world aflame, so Faramond can save it."

"Oh yes," he turned, looking straight into Kallen's eyes. "I was wrong about my father. I thought he just wanted to take over the world for Britannia, but I underestimated him. He's far too clever to fall into that old trap, so he's gone for something else, something that can cut across all boundaries, something by which he can control people of all kinds and types. You know what I mean, don't you?"

"Religion," Jeremiah said darkly.

"Oh _yes_!" Lelouch snarled, his fury rising in a terrible exultation. "A brand new religion, like nothing that's ever existed before! A religion that's got everything you could possibly want from a religion, with something _really_ special! Real live _miracles_!"

"But…it won't work on _everyone_!" Kallen protested, desperation in her eyes. "People have their own beliefs, their own ways, and their own reasons! He won't win over everyone on the world! No one can!"

"He doesn't need to!" Lelouch roared. "The Areas alone would do it! Can you imagine it? Hundreds of millions of Numbers, beaten, broken, _pacified_!" he spat the latter word. "So much so that they haven't raised a hand in rebellion in decades! You can see it, can't you? You remember how it was with Euphie! She could make people who hated Britannia fall on their knees for a touch of her hand! For a scrap of kindness! Can you imagine what _he_ would do to them? He the Messiah, meek and mild? Whose words were gentleness and whose touch could heal any injury? Who knows, maybe it could bring back the dead? And even if it can't it doesn't matter, because it's all a show anyway! The Order has this all planned out, you know that as well as I do!" He paused, breathing heavily, his eyes flashing with incandescent rage.

"Faramond will not say the dire words. He'll speak to them of love, of forgiveness, of gentleness, just like Euphie taught him. But his priests will speak of enemies, of unbelievers, of blasphemers. It is they, they will say, who are responsible for all the violence and pain and destruction. It is they who stand in the way of the future, who deny the revelation, who would prevent the coming of the new age. It is _they_ who must be made to submit, or else swept aside!" He paused again.

"You know what will happen," his voice was hoarse. "You know how it goes, how it has always gone. There will be those who believe, and those…who do not." He deflated, exhausted by his tirade, leaning back against the desk.

"So we get them first," Kallen said, moving closer until she stood directly in front of him. He could not meet her gaze.

"Yes." Lelouch sighed a weary sigh. "We have a chance. If we destroy the Order now we may be able to stop this, or at least find out more." Kallen stepped forward, easing his head onto her shoulder. Jeremiah thought it best to leave, and turned on his heel.

"He used me," Lelouch whispered hoarsely, as the cyborg stepped through the door.

"It's not your fault," Kallen whispered back, as the door closed behind him.

"This is nuts. This is _completely_ nuts."

* * *

Down in the HQ's mess hall, a impromptu gathering of Black Knights were discussing what their leaders had just heard. Currently leading the debate was Kento Sugiyama, who looked as though he had been introduced to a Martian.

"But it's true," Ougi insisted wearily. "You _saw_ what happened to Tendo. Zero couldn't have faked something like that."

"I agree," spoke up Kasuga Suzushima from the medical unit, his place denoted by the patch at his shoulder. "I saw Tendo just yesterday. There's no way in hell his wounds could've healed _that_ quickly."

"Besides, Tendo was JLF," added Yoshitaka Minami. "He wouldn't lie, not to Tohdoh. This really happened."

"So now Zero's gonna lead us on some mad quest," Sugiyama went on, "while everything goes to hell here in Tokyo!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" protested Ougi.

"Don't act like you don't know!" Sugiyama snapped back. "You know what Kyoto's been doing behind the scenes. They're getting ready to take over! To put things back the way they were before! And Zero's not doing anything about it! It's like he doesn't want to know!"

"Wilya cut the guy some slack!" Tamaki snapped. "He's been workin' himself to death for us! I ought to know!"

"Yeah!" Sugiyama sneered. "Mister ex-Minister of Finance! Or was that why you quit? Because you were sick of being a placeholder!"

"Ya wanna say that to my fist, you damn punk!" Tamaki snarled, pulling down his sleeve. "If you're gonna talk crap about Zero, you'd better be ready for it!"

"Can't I speak my mind!" Sugiyama demanded, face twisted in anger. "Or are we really living in a police state?"

"No we're not!" Ougi insisted, hoping to quell the confrontation. "We fought for such rights, so everyone should speak their minds." There were mutterings of agreement from the assembled Black Knights.

"We also fought to make sure those Kyoto bluebloods couldn't screw things up again!" Sugiyama went on, unmoved. "You know what'll happen if they get back their old power! They screwed us over in the last war and blamed it all on the army and the Emperor! They screwed up again in 2010 and blamed it all on Genbu Kururugi and the Britannians! This time they'll blame it on Zero!"

"The Six Houses are the people's enemies!" someone yelled. A chorus of angry shouts followed.

"I understand your concerns," Ougi interjected. "But I think they're premature. I'm confident Lady Kaguya can handle them."

"When she's not having it off with that kid Rolo!" Sugiyama demanded. "And she's not the only one!" The shouts and snarls came again, this time with an ugly, leering air about them.

"Here we go!" snorted Mutsuki Minase. "A girl chooses her own lover and that makes her a whore! You guys are all the same!" Some of the other female Black Knights yelled out in support. The atmosphere was getting confrontational.

"Everyone, this is hardly appropriate," Ougi pleaded. "I don't see any evidence that Lady Kaguya and Rolo are lovers, and I don't think we should be speculating on it." He felt ridiculous, knowing he probably sounded a complete wuss. But it was true all the same. Kaguya had been keeping Rolo close recently, but she seemed to treat him more like a younger brother than a boyfriend.

"I don't _care_ if they are!" Sugiyma snarled back. "But you know that SKK will! You know what they'll do if they find out that Kaguya Sumeragi and Kallen Kozuki are getting bonked by Britannians! And the other Kyoto Houses will use it against us!"

Ougi had a pretty clear idea of what the infamous Shinri-Kyo-Kai, or Supreme Truth Party, would do with that information. He knew that they would use it to stir up trouble, to damage the credibility of both the Black Knights _and_ House Sumeragi, with the potential to seriously damage Zero's power base. The other five houses, actually only four since House Kururugi was in disgrace, would use it in the same way. Whether to destroy Zero, to weaken him, or as something to threaten him with, it would serve their dire purpose.

Ougi felt a shiver of frustration. It was an unwelcome reminder to him of one of human nature's less edifying features, a tendency to judge others based on who they were having sex with, or not as the case may be. But underneath was something far older, and far darker. It was a dark, cruel instinct, the instinct of tribe and nation, and of property. It was the instinct that held up the female as sacred, as the virtue and health of the whole. Any failure to live up to that ideal demanded punishment, and there could be few less forgivable failures than consorting with outsiders, polluting the sacred feminine with the foreign masculine.

It made Ougi particularly uncomfortable, since he himself had done the same, even though it was not such a crime if a man did it.

"_Chigusa_…"

She had never left his thoughts for any length of time. He remembered her smile, her easy manner, the way she'd cooked for him, unbidden. He remembered how he had encountered her again at Ashford Academy during the Black Rebellion, remembered how her golden eyes, cold and hard where they had once been warm and gentle. He remembered the hot, stinging pain of a bullet in the stomach, the disgust in her tone.

And he had seen her again.

He could have sworn he had seen her. He had been one of the first Black Knights on the scene at Ashford Academy. It had been fairly crazy, with lots of people running back and forth, but he was _sure_ he had seen her, even if it was only for a moment.

There was nothing he could do about it for now. Soon, when this new business was dealt with, he would go to Ashford Academy and see for himself.

It might just get her face out of his head.

* * *

_**Sumeragi household, Tokyo, that night**_

The night was clear, the sky awash with glittering stars.

Kaguya Sumeragi stared up at them, gazing upon the moon for whose goddess she was named, part of her hoping to find some comfort there.

But there was none.

Only a thin indoor yukata covered her slender frame, but the night was pleasantly warm, cooled by the occasional breeze. The moonlight gleamed on her doll-like face, its expression wistful, worried. Dark thoughts invaded her troubled mind.

Lelouch was Zero.

The young boy she had known, so briefly all those years ago, had become Japan's saviour. The prince who was cast out became a warlord, and took revenge upon his former homeland.

He had lied. He had pretended. He had deceived an entire nation.

Except he hadn't. Plenty had known, or else suspected, that Japan's saviour was not himself Japanese. In their desperation, their despair, they had grasped at any straw no matter how thin. They had made him their liberator. They had made him their god.

And she knew. She, Kaguya Sumeragi, knew a secret that might, if properly used, bring down the government.

The government? For all her youth, Kaguya knew enough of such things to see the Provisional Diet for what it was. She did not blame Zero for choosing them, for the body needed to at least _appear_ to represent the country evenly and fairly. The one thing she could not understand, and had not wanted to understand, was how so many of the warlords, resistance leaders, and religious fanatics had capitulated so easily. She had watched in amazement as they emerged from his tent, or his railway carriage, telling their astonished followers to lay down their weapons. Only recently, and thanks to Rolo, did she know how he had done it.

Rolo.

She turned her head to glance into the room. Rolo lay where she had left him, futon cover pulled up to his chin, fast asleep. Kaguya felt herself smile at the sight. He looked so innocent, so pure like that. He was not innocent, of that much she was certain. No one could live a life like his and remain innocent. But Rolo was pure, more so than she could have thought possible. He was honest, sincere, and even kind when he knew how to be.

She had grown to enjoy his company, even before that sorrowful night in Brussels, when he had wept into her lap. She had promised him her friendship, a promise she had kept. Why else would she have brought him with her, let him sleep in her room, albeit in a separate futon?

Why else would she worry so?

Kaguya knew well enough that Zero was planning a new operation, this time against the mysterious 'Order', that had granted Rolo his unusual powers. And Rolo would have to go, for he was one of the Black Knights' best pilots, and his Geass made him an asset Zero would be a fool to waste.

But she found she did not want him to go. It was bad enough that he risked his life, where one wrong move or sheer bad luck might doom him. But this time it was worse, for he would be fighting the people who had raised him, trained him, empowered him. He would be fighting the nearest thing he had to a family. And what if there were other children there? Children empowered as he had been? Would he have to kill them? His own little brothers and sisters in Geass?

Reason told her there was no other option. To do otherwise would be to put the Black Knights, Zero's followers, at intolerable risk. And even if they could be taken alive, could they be contained safely? What horrors might be unleashed, what evil, if even one of those unfortunate children were to escape into the world?

And what would it do to Rolo?

She thought of not letting him leave, of trying to keep him there, whether by persuasion or force. But she knew it wouldn't work. She couldn't control Rolo, not when he could just freeze her mind and walk out. And even had he no such power, she did not want to bring Zero's ire down on his head, or on hers for that matter. She would keep silent and let him go, praying that he would return safely.

And in the meantime, try to keep everything Zero had fought for from slipping through his fingers. For he did not know, or perhaps did not care, the sand was shifting beneath his feet.

Her stomach clenched with frustration. She had wondered at times why Zero did not simply brainwash the Provisional Diet as he had the warlords. If he had done, he need never fear disobedience or rebellion from them. She knew the reasons why, and was frustrated because the reasons were entirely valid. Such a power had to be used as little as possible, and with the utmost care and planning. The more he used it, the more likely it became that suspicions might arise. Whether they fully understood or not, the very idea was enough to spur conspirators to action. Zero had spent enough time in a royal court to know how easily suspicion could blossom into paranoia, and paranoia into dire, mistaken action. To be discovered was to be doomed.

But that left the politicians free to plot and scheme was they were wont to do. Kaguya had kept herself well-informed of their doings and plottings, care of those within the halls of government still loyal to her family, and she saw good reason to worry. The Diet itself was chafing under Zero's Regency, the Representatives believing that he was denying them their rightful power and dignity. To make matters worse, her spies had found evidence of secret negotiations with SKK and the other Kyoto houses, though despite their best efforts they could not find any link to Taizo Kirihara, the man who had led the Six Houses before and during the occupation.

"_What are you up to, Taizo Kirihara_?" she thought. "_What are you up to, you ruthless old man?_"

Frustration was replaced by anger. They hadn't so much as mentioned it to her. _Her_! Kaguya Sumeragi, last of the Sumeragi family, had been sidelined. _Ignored_.

She knew why. It was not simply that she was born a woman, for that had not been enough to keep her out before. She had been a part of all they did during the dark days of the occupation, even though she sat behind a curtain, like an Imperial princess too holy to be sullied with such deliberations. It was not misogyny that kept them silent.

It was because she was Sumeragi. It was because she had nailed her colours to Zero's mast. To let her know would be to make themselves her slaves, their lives and careers in her hands. She could destroy them all, if she so chose.

Except she couldn't. She couldn't destroy them, because Zero did not seem to care. He must surely have noticed, or at least Diethard's department should have, and yet he did nothing about it. He was preoccupied with other things.

That was another thing that worried her. Did Zero no longer care about Japan? Did he mean to abandon her country, as he had appeared to do during the rebellion? Did revenge mean so much to him?

Or was it something else? Kaguya wondered if he did not feel somehow _unworthy_ of the responsibility he had taken on. Perhaps he intended to disappear, to drop out of world as suddenly as he had dropped in, and leave the Japanese to find their own destiny.

A noble aspiration, but not necessarily a practical one. Something inside Kaguya cried out against the idea of Zero stepping down. It protested that Japan still needed him, that it would need him for a great many years, as the work of rebuilding a shattered country continued.

But what could she do about it? What could she do to stop him from destroying himself, if indeed that was his intention? Would he even listen to her?

Kaguya felt sleep come upon her at last. She headed back to her futon, stepping quietly so as not to disturb Rolo.

She would have to think of something soon.

* * *

_**Ashford Academy, Tokyo, 16**__**th**__** July 2018 ATB**_

Milly Ashford regarded the face in front of her.

She knew it quite well. There was a great deal of several other faces in it, including two of the people she most cared for. She had also seen it before, many years ago when it had been much younger.

The eyes were familiar too, painfully so. The weight she had seen in them all those years ago had returned. The sparkle she had seen when they re-entered her life, a few weeks ago, had vanished.

Faramond u Britannia was not the most important person in her life, though she was sufficiently generous of spirit to include him in the first tier. All the same she was disappointed. Disappointed that despite her best efforts, darkness still lingered about him. He had just been starting to shine, to grow, only to clam right up again.

Then again, she hadn't been able to do much with his uncle, either. That one would never learn.

"You sent for me, Madam President." His voice no longer croaked the way it had when he arrived. His vocal chords had been used more in the past few weeks than in the previous eight years.

"Yes I did." Milly rested her elbows on her desk, resting her chin on her steepled fingers. "I wanted to see how you were doing, after the excitement the day before yesterday.

"I am…well…Madam President."

"I know that nothing's wrong with you physically. The medical staff told me so themselves. I was asking about the rest of you."

"I…do not understand." There was a flicker of uncertainty, perhaps of fear, in those world-weary eyes.

"I mean, Faramond, how are you dealing with what's happened?" Milly kept her face straight. "What you learned must have been hard to take."

"I am coping, Madam President."

"No Faramond, I don't think you are." Milly fixed him with her gaze. "I don't think that you're coping well at all."

"Madam President…"

"You've been moping in your room for the past two days," Milly cut him off. "You haven't said a word to anyone, not even Tomoyo. That's not the way that someone who's coping well behaves."

"I…I…"  
"Your usual methods aren't working. I know how that feels. You're used to just dealing with it, but this time you can't. It's scary." She paused a moment, looking straight into those blue eyes. She knew she was right.

"I have my ways," she went on, a little wistfully. "I laugh, and tease, and mock. I like catching people off-guard, because that's when people show their true selves. I throw parties, partly because of that, and partly because I just like to see people enjoy themselves. But it doesn't always work, not for everything. Sometimes, even I just feel like crying." It was quite an admission, but a necessary one.

"I…don't want anyone to…"

"To see you cry?" Milly finished his sentence. "There's that royal upbringing again. Never cry in front of someone else. Always do it private. Be strong for the commoners."

"Madam President…" Faramond looked as if he were about to chide her, but trailed off.

"I never said it was a _bad_ thing," Milly reassured him. "Someone has to stay strong when everything's going crazy. That's what it means to be royalty. You have to be the rock on which everyone else can stand."

"Then…"

"The question is, who do _you_ lean on when you can't take any more?" She eyed him. "Who helps you deal with it? Who keeps you strong?" Faramond opened his mouth as if to speak. But his breath caught in his throat. After a moment, he lowered his head, ashamed.

"You're a lot like your uncle, you know," Milly commented. "He claims that he's not a prince any more, but he never really stopped being one. He's prideful, like you."

"I have no pride, Madam President."

"Only because you don't know what pride is." Milly allowed her countenance to become more serious, though not too much so. "What you call pride, I call arrogance. You're certainly not arrogant, and you're not ungracious either, unlike some of your family. I can count on one hand the number who would stand in front of my desk like a supplicant, the way you're doing now. But all the same I see their pride in you. I think it's the only thing that sustained through all those years." Faramond did not answer. He could not even raise his head.

"Pride isn't about looking down on others, or treating them badly," Milly explained. "It's about you, and who you are. It's the reason why you can't bring yourself to confide in Tomoyo, or anyone else for that matter. To do so would mean admitting that you can't cope, that you're lonely and you're hurting. Just like your uncle Lelouch."

"I…" Faramond's voice was suddenly hoarse.

"That's why Tomoyo is upset with you, in case you were wondering," Milly pressed, sensing victory. "She only wanted you to confide in her."

"I…I would not presume…"

"Is it presumption to tell the one who loves you how you're feeling?" Milly almost snapped. "She wants you to presume, and so do your friends."

"But I…" Faramond stopped himself, but Milly knew what he had been about to say. She got up, walked slowly around the desk, and stopped beside his chair. She put one finger under his chin, then lifted it to look her in the eyes.

"Am I not your friend, Faramond u Britannia?"

Faramond buried his head in her shoulder. Milly slipped an arm about his waist and another about his shoulder, pressing him to her.

"I know you don't think so, but I _am_ your friend," she told him. "And so is Rivalz, and so is Shirley, and Tomoyo, and Alice, and all your classmates."

"But why?"

"Why?" Milly pulled back, taking Faramond by the shoulders. "Because you are our precious prince. Because you are Lelouch and Nunnally's dear nephew, and I sometimes wonder how the House of Britannia produced the likes of you three. But most of all, because you're you."

"Then, will you counsel me, Madam President?"

"By all means." Milly beamed. Lelouch lowered his head again, choosing his words.

"I…don't want to be as I am," Faramond said at last. "I want to change. I don't want to be afraid any more. But I don't know how."

"I'm not surprised." Milly put her hands on her hips, adopting a thoughtful pose. "That's the hardest part."

"Then, could you tell me how to apologise to Tomoyo?" Faramond's cheeks reddened. "I have no right to ask anything of her, but I cannot say nothing." Milly giggled.

"Were I anyone else, I would advise you just to tell her how you feel. But I'm me, so I would advise a magnificent gesture, something soppy and romantic that she'll never forget."

"I'll do it!" Faramond enthused.

"Very well then." Faramond suddenly faltered, noticing the gleam in her eyes.

"Oh no!" he protested. "Not that! Anything but that!"

"It's the best way!" Milly's smile widened most disconcertingly. "It's the perfect way to swallow your pride before Tomoyo _and_ your classmates. She'll never doubt your love again." Faramond shivered, then sighed in defeat.

"I shall do it."

"Excellent!" Milly proclaimed. "Tomorrow morning then!"

* * *

_**Somewhere over the Gobi Desert**_

General Magnus Constantian was not a happy man.

After showering and breakfasting, his first task had been to read the innumerable communiqués and documents piling up in his Inbox or on his desk. Much of it was everyday minutiae, which he could deal with quickly and with minimal thought. More challenging material included a request for opinions on the state of the _Adler¸_ a report he would have to take his time over. The request did not surprise him, for the _Adler_'s role in the Battle of Brussels had ensured the project's survival, the decision subsequently being taken to equip all the EUROFORCE brigades with _Adler_ class floatships. It was incumbent on the project leaders to refine the design in any possible way in order to reduce costs and speed up production time. According to the most recent estimates, a single specialized facility such as Aerie Base, which was in fact the only one, could build an _Adler_ class floatship in six months to a year if it received supply priority. As it was, the project was competing with the State navies for much of what it needed, ranging from hull plating to electronic components to weapons systems. Unrelated components such as the float engines, energy shields, and nuclear reactors had been constructed at specialist facilities, the limited capacities of which would have to be expanded, competing with just about everyone else for material and human resources.

Complications, complications, complications.

But of greater immediate relevance, and interest, were the reports from the front. The Russian theatre was going well, with Russian forces on the move again after a brief pause for resupply and maintenance. Battles were taking place all across the Ural mountains, and several of the defence complexes had been successfully reoccupied. Once the Britannians were driven out and the defence network re-established, the EU forces would be in a position to ease off, consolidating their strength for the push into Siberia.

The news from Africa was not so heartening, in spite of the overall success. The Egyptian forces had suffered heavy attrition while liberating their country, and had withdrawn from further offensive operations for the time being. The Egyptians had fought hard, as had all the other exile forces seeking to liberate their homelands, but the Britannians had fought every bit as hard.

Magnus knew why. He knew that the Britannian rotation system had broken down, its forces hopelessly overstretched. The response had been to move the soldiers' families, by force or persuasion, out to the new settlements. This made the garrison units fight all the harder, for it was their wives and children cowering in the settlements behind them, awaiting a dreadful fate if they faltered. Magnus knew little of such feelings, but had seen ample evidence of their power.

The EU knew it too. The freshly-reconstituted Central Hemicycle had voted, only three days earlier, in favour of activating the 'Maximum Expediency' protocols. Only the Pacifists, the most ideologically committed of all the major caucuses, had opposed the measure in any numbers, claiming they wanted no part of such 'inhumanity' and 'barbarism'. Not that anyone was listening. Few were inclined to show restraint, with stories abounding of Britannia's conduct in the territories it occupied. The Britannians were, in the eyes of plenty of Europeans, getting no more than they deserved.

The coastal settlements had been flattened, the combined fleet turning its railguns and missiles upon them as a prelude to the landings. Area 18 had surrendered almost immediately afterwards, it's Viceroy complaining incessantly of being abandoned. As a reward for his wise decision, the Britannian settlers were allowed to remain in their settlements, under the watchful gaze of EU peacekeepers, until arrangements could be made for their 'repatriation'. They were the lucky ones. The survivors of wrecked settlements, if places could not be found for them in surviving settlements, were being herded into hastily-constructed concentration camps, there to wait out the war.

Magnus was not sure how he felt about it. He felt some things, many things in fact, to which he could not put words. Mostly it was a strange feeling of energy, of agitation. It was a strange tightness in his muscles, the urge to clench his fists. It was…

The door chime disturbed his thoughts.

"Enter." The door slid open, and Magnus turned to see who it was. His chest tightened, a reaction that surprised him, as Akiko Kobayashi stepped through the doorway.

"Excuse me, General." Akiko inclined her head in the Japanese fashion. "Chairwoman Eckart asked me to bring you to the CIC. We are approaching the area in which the Order base is believed to be located."

"I see. Very well." Magnus laid down the documents and stood up. Akiko stood aside as he stepped through the doorway, then fell into step at his shoulder. They walked in silence for what felt like an age. Magnus felt something in his chest, a feeling like nausea, yet he knew neither his digestion nor motion sickness could be to blame. The feeling got even worse as they stepped into the elevator.

"Do you normally serve as a courier, Doctor Kobayashi?" The question was terse, but he needed a distraction.

"No, General," Akiko replied. "I was passing by when Chairwoman Eckart requested I bring you." Neither could look the other in the eyes. Magnus had not felt so uncomfortable in many years, not even during that soiree in Ruritania. At least back then he could still use Quiescence.

"I trust that all has been prepared?"  
"Doctor Gunner is making the final preparations now." The _Adler_ was not as a rule equipped with laboratories. The facilities had been added back in Aquitaine, specifically for the _Adler_'s current mission.

Mercifully the door slid open. Magnus acknowledged Akiko with a nod before stepping out into the corridor leading to the Combat Information Centre, which was located just behind the Bridge. The chamber was well-lit, the illumination augmented by the glow of the duty stations. Captain Helen Butler was waiting by the map table, located in the centre of the chamber, along with Major Freidrich Reinhart, newly-promoted Colonel Ichijo Morisato, and Chairwoman Dietlinde Eckart.

Magnus felt a surge of irritation when he saw Squadron Commander Julien Dantes with them. The addition of Inferno Squadron to his command had piled infuriation upon annoyance, not for any fault on the squadron's part, but because he would have to endure the company of its commander. Dantes was perfectly capable, the only knightmare double-ace in the entire EU, but all the man's pleasure seemed to lie in annoying him. It had been he who had roped him not only into attending the ball at Strelsau, but in dancing with Akiko, though Lukas had been equally guilty in that latter regard.

As he returned the salutes, Magnus hoped that Dantes would know his place. Ordinarily Dantes would only have been a Captain, except that he led a EUROFORCE independent knightmare squadron, and as such received the title of Squadron Commander to reflect his status and role. That would almost certainly cause rancour among the legion personnel, but the fact that Morisato considerably outranked him would with any luck be enough to keep things calm.

"Report."

"Nothing thus far, General," replied Captain Butler. "Recon units report no sightings of any kind." Magnus nodded in acknowledgement, concealing his mild disappointment. He was hoping he had not been pulled off the battle line for a wild goose chase.

"Transmissions?"

"Not a squeak sir." The _Adler_'s Captain, a woman a few years his senior, gave a cynical tut. "This is quite literally a desert."

"A desert over which we are spending time and money flying rather low." Magnus could not resist glancing at Eckart and Reinhart. This was Eckart's mission, strictly speaking, and Reinhart was EUROFORCE's liaison officer to the _Furiae_, who had a personal interest in the destruction of the so-called Geass Order.

And that was another problem. Neither the _Adler_'s crew nor the Legion personnel were enjoying the presence of the black-armoured killers in their midst. They rarely saw them, for the Furies kept to themselves for the most part. All the same, their reputation preceded them.

"Don't try to blame our altitude on me Magnus," Dietlinde Eckart called back, apparently amused. "It was our good Captain Butler who insisted."

"I judged it necessary, General." Butler sounded exasperated at having to explain herself. "We will be harder to detect this way, whether from ground level or the air."

"I am not questioning your judgement Captain Butler," Magnus replied levelly, having no desire to undermine her authority. "It is this entire mission that I am questioning."

"I've already given you all the explanation I can, Magnus." The Chairwoman was one of very few people who had never seemed unsettled or intimidated by him. "Our best information leads us to this region. We can't narrow it down any more than that."

"Recon B2 reports floatship contact!" barked one of the comm-techs. "Quadrant delta five! Speed sixty k!"

"Show me!" Magnus stormed over to the map table. The image flashed into being, drifting slowly across the map. There was a small Recon icon too, coloured green for friendly, representing the two _Gamelon_ jetbikes.

"Can they identify?"

"Recon claims _Ikaruga_. Requesting datalink."

"Negative." He could not risk a datalink. It might be detected. "Tell them to maintain contact until further orders."

"Yes sir."

Magnus returned his attention to the map table as Dantes, Morisato, Reinhart, Butler, and Eckart joined him. As he ran his colourless eyes over the holographic terrain laid out in front of him, his mind raced in anticipation. Could that be it? Was it the clue that would reveal the enemy?

The icon on display was a standard 'floatship' icon, and would remain so until its identity was confirmed. It was maintaining course and speed, suggesting that it had not spotted the recon unit. That, and the fact that it was flying low, also suggested that its destination was somewhere nearby.

He was willing to believe that it was indeed the _Ikaruga_. The configuration and colour scheme were highly distinctive, and he trusted his men not to make a mistake. Zero had almost certainly come in person, and Magnus could think of only one reason.

"It would appear we have our quarry," Dantes mused. "And he's leading us right to them. Your hypothesis was correct, Chairwoman Eckart."

"But we still don't have a precise location," Dietlinde replied, looking up at Magnus. "We can't let them beat us to it." Magnus continued to scan the map, looking for something…_anything_.

His attention fell on a clump of rock sitting by itself among the sand dunes, right in the path of the floatship. His eyes narrowed. Could they be _that_ obvious?

"Telemetry! Maximum magnification! Quadrant gamma four!" he barked. An instant later a new image materialized over the map, showing the rock from above. China did not have the money to squander on expanding their Space Blinder network over empty desert. Magnus stared at the image, noting what looked like…

"That's it. The Order is there."

"You're certain, General?" Butler looked questioningly at him.

"That is the place," Magnus replied, "unless the indigenous people have a penchant for lining their front paths with columns."

"My word," Dantes eyed the image with amused surprise. "You'd think they'd know better. Or perhaps superhuman powers come at the expense of common sense."

"How long until they get there?" Magnus asked, turning his gaze on Butler.

"At current speed, two hours."

"How long do you need to deploy the brigade?"

"An hour, so long as nothing breaks down."

"The Legion is ready, General," Morisato cut in. "We can deploy at your order."

Magnus paused a moment, thinking it through.

He had only overseen it once, but once had been enough to show him that deploying the entire brigade in a hurry was no simple matter. The jetbikes, knightmares, and gunships could deploy on their own, but the two infantry battalions were another matter. With just over five hundred men and women each, they needed over a hundred IFVs and APCs to carry them into battle. To unload them in the space of one hour was theoretically possible, so long as the two ventral elevators didn't break down.

Once on the ground, the two battalions would be able to manage a speed of about seventy kilometres per hour. That meant that if he was to beat the _Ikaruga_ to the Order base, he would have to deploy within that distance from the rock. The _Ikaruga_'s medium railguns were reckoned by Intel to have an indirect-fire range of about two hundred kilometres, the same as the _Adler_'s coilguns. If he tried to deploy within that distance, he would be an easy target if Zero decided to play rough. If he deployed now, one-hundred and sixty-two kilometres from the rock, then the battalions would arrive over an hour after Zero had begun his attack. It could all be over by then.

"Deploying the brigade fully is not viable," he said. "We dare not land while that floatship is active. We will deploy the Furies via jetbike, then deploy knightmares and infantry on arrival if they are needed." He looked up at Reinhart. "I trust the Furies can handle it."

"Depend on it, General." Reinhart gave Magnus a particularly unsettling smile.

"It's probably just as well," Dantes drawled. "I'd prefer a straight fight to mindless butchery. You think the floatship will be hostile, General?"

"If that's Zero," Magnus replied, suppressing his irritation at Dantes' manner, "he's either in league with the Order or out for their blood himself. That makes him our enemy in the first instance, and a hindrance in the second."

"General, if I may speak," Morisato interjected. "Might we not contact him and seek his cooperation?"

"Unacceptable," Dietlinde Eckart answered tersely. "We cannot allow the Order's secrets to fall into his hands."

"In other words," Dantes' eyes sparkled maliciously. "EUROSEC wants him destroyed."

"General," Morisato turned to Magnus again. "The EU has called him friend, and he is Zero."

"Are you saying," Dantes rounded on him with a malign smile, "that the Legion will not fight him?"

"I say nothing of the kind, _Squadron Commander,_" Morisato retorted, forcing himself not to grimace in irritation. "If commanded to fight the Black Knights, the Legion will do so." He was going to say _with enthusiasm_, but stopped himself. The attitude of the Japanese Legion towards the Black Knights was complicated at the best of times, leaning towards hostility over Zero's mistreatment of their one-time leader. But Ichijo Morisato knew them well enough to know that, deep down, they would be conflicted over having to fire on fellow Japanese.

"Enough," Magnus ended the argument with a word. "We will maintain radio silence until the enemy is in visual range or is confirmed to have seen us. Captain, best possible speed to the target."

"Yes General."

* * *

The ground erupted in a shower of sand and rock fragments as the _Ikaruga_ let loose another barrage.

The floatship hovered in mid air, a few hundred metres from the rock outcropping that marked the entrance. The ventral heavy railgun hummed and crackled as the twin magnetic rails that gave it its name charged. In a momentary flash of plasma the railgun fired again, sending a metre-long tungsten-carbide dart into the ground with enough force to blast a large warship in half. Another shower of sand, this one billowing higher and thicker than before as the ground finally gave way.

The Order hideout was open.

As the sand began to settle, the Black Knights moved. Their knightmares, teal _Akatsuki_s fresh from the factories, swarmed from the _Ikaruga_'s catapult deck, dropping down like vengeful angels out of the sun. Lelouch was among them, descending with them in his black and gold _Shinkiro_. He looked in amazement at the underground city, which the Order seemed to have hewn from the very rock itself. The old geological report Diethard had found had told of natural underground caverns in that area, and Jeremiah and Rolo had told him even more, but none of it had prepared him for what he was seeing. There was a dark, forbidding magnificence to the place, bathed in a purple radiance emanating from the centre.

A Thought Elevator. It made a worrying amount of sense.

The Order's betrayers, his brave defectors, descended alongside him. Rolo was at his right hand, aboard his golden _Vincent_. Jeremiah was at his left, piloting a _Sutherland_ left over from the occupation. It had been hastily retrofitted for his use, with a _Gekka_'s float unit on its back and a heavy coilgun in place of its right arm. It had been resprayed too, in Britannian military blue with red on the shoulders and the Factsphere, his old colours. Arranged around the three were the _Akatsuki_s of Zero Squadron, led by Kallen in her red _Guren Kashoshiki_. To his right, Lelouch could see Third Squadron moving to secure the main entrance, wrist autocannons blazing at targets too far away to see. Below him he could see the devastation wrought by the bombardment, dust settling to reveal heavy boulders and jagged lumps of rock dislodged from the cavern ceiling. Many of the oblong buildings had been crushed, and no doubt many had been killed.

"Third Squadron to Zero," came the no-nonsense voice over the comm. "We've secured the main entrance. "Shall we continue?"

"Affirmative," Lelouch replied, flying his _Shinkiro_ down to land in the wide concourse in front of the tunnel leading up to the entrance. "Zero to _Ikaruga_. Entrance is secure, begin secondary deployments."

"Yes Zero." Third Squadron moved off, walking or flying between the buildings. Fifth and Sixth Squadrons flew out over the city, while Seventh, Eighth, and Ninth Squadrons came rolling out of the entrance tunnel, Commando A, B, and C companies jogging behind them.

"Remember," Jeremiah interjected over the comm. "Enemy defences include small arms, automated sentry turrets, and armed labour frames, so be alert."

"Do your own damn job, damn Britannian!" someone snapped back.

"All units!" Lelouch interjected, before the altercation could grow. "I'm transmitting your sector assignments now! Kill any who resist, and secure non-combatants for interrogation! Prisoners are to be rendered unconscious and secured for collection! Personnel on foot are upon no account to remove their helmets outside a secured zone! If you see any of your comrades acting strangely, report it immediately!"

"Yes Zero!"

Lelouch switched off the comm, and willed his heart to still. The burning rage of the previous day was past, replaced with a cold fury that seemed to permeate every fibre of his being. It was a feeling he knew well, a feeling that had driven him on through a cold, empty life. It had given him purpose, and kept him alive.

The Order was responsible for everything. Their meddling had brought the world to ruin. Their mad dreams had drowned the world in blood, and would do ten times worse in their fulfilment. They had corrupted innocence, abused trust, perpetuated lies.

They had exposed his secret to those he least wanted to know it. Because of them, his dearest friends knew he was Zero, and what they had once shared was tainted beyond recovery.

"_Shirley, Rivalz, Milly, Nina…_"

He looked down at his tactical screen, searching for something, anything, to get his mind off his sorrows. He saw that Fifth and Sixth squadrons were no longer moving.

"Fifth squadron. Status report."

"Fifth squadron reporting." Lelouch recognized the voice of Lee Jin-Tae, a volunteer from Joseon. "Resistance is minimal, small arms only. This won't take long."

"Very good. Sixth squadron, status report."

"Kinoshita here! Resistance by enemy on foot!"

"What's their status?"

"Small arms only. Zero, they're fighting like maniacs!"

"Zero! What the hell's up with these guys!" It was Tamaki, who had latched onto Commando B company. "They're coming at us like they're on drugs or something!" He trailed off, his voice obscured by gunfire. Mystified, Lelouch looked down at his screen again. His units had surrounded the central tower, as he had intended, and were slowly closing in. But they were not making the kind of rapid progress they had a few moments ago. He had known the element of surprise would not last forever, but people on foot with small arms shouldn't have been able to delay his forces, at least not by much.

"_What are they doing? Are they herding their own people into the meat grinder? Why? Is it to hold us off? What are they planning?_"

* * *

Rolo scanned his eyes over the underground city.

He wasn't quite sure how he felt about the place. It had been his home for several years, when he was being trained in the use of his Geass, before he was handed over to the OSI. He had played in those streets, in the light of elegant streetlamps, with the other children of the Order. Some had received Geass of their own, and those whose Geass were suitable had also been trained as agents.

There would be children down there. Innocent, trusting, knowing little of the world outside, existing primarily to have Geass bestowed upon them, so that the effects and capabilities could be tested and noted. All so that the Order might some day understand the true nature of Geass, and of those who bestowed it.

They were lab rats, with the power to overturn the world.

Rolo knew it. He knew it better than most, for he had been there. He had seen the sorts of powers that the Code-bearers could bestow. Powers to ensnare the mind, befuddle the senses, warp the soul. Powers to make, and to unmake. Powers to influence, to control, to enslave.

For the sake of all humanity, they would have to die.

But…

He glanced down to his right arm, to the length of white silk tied halfway between elbow and shoulder, its colour bright against the blue of his g-force suit. It had been tied there that morning by Kaguya, followed by a kiss on his cheek, just as he was leaving. He had been touched by the gesture, so much so that he cared nothing for the glances and the mutterings it elicited from his fellow Black Knights.

Rolo felt his heart clench. He knew what Kaguya meant by the gesture, what she wanted him to do, what she hoped he would be. She did not want him to do what Zero might require him to do.

It hadn't come to that. Not yet.

A shockwave buffeted his _Vincent_, drawing his attention to the central tower. It was wreathed in smoke as _something_ emerged from it.

Rolo felt cold in his stomach. He knew that shape; vaguely spherical, with five long vanes radiating out like the points of a star. Lights glowed through the smoke, like so many malign eyes.

"It's…!"

"_Siegfried_!" CC beat him to it.

"Jeremiah!" Lelouch called over the comm. "Isn't that unit…?"

"Yes," the defector replied. Even over the comm Rolo could sense his anger. "The only other person who can use it is…"

He was cut off as the _Siegfried_ launched one of its long Slash Harkens, each as big as a knightmare, straight at the _Shinkiro. _The black and gold knightmare could not dodge in time, but managed to catch the deadly point with a cluster of glowing shield force of the impact was nonetheless enough to hurl the _Shinkiro_ backwards. The _Shinkiro _flew back, up through the hole and out into the open air, the _Siegfried_ boiling after it.

"You surprise me VV!" Lelouch challenged his tormentor. "The observer becomes the perpetrator!"

"You know, I sort of liked you Lelouch_._" The voice was that of a young boy, its tone languid and casual. "Because you reminded me of Charles."

* * *

At that moment, everything changed.

All over the floor of the cavern, metal cylinders rose from the ground. As surprised Black Knights turned to glance at them, the cylinders split open, short black tubes extending out. The turrets opened up, filling the cavern with a murderous crossfire. Unsuspecting infantry were mown down, the survivors scurrying for whatever cover they could find. The small-calibre rounds pattered over the knightmares like falling rain, catching them in joints or Factspheres.

But the knightmares managed to respond. Those who could returned fire, blowing apart any turret they could see. Little by little the deadly crossfire was reduced, and the beleaguered commandos and support personnel were able to find effective cover. The brief fightback was over in just over a minute.

Or so it seemed.

Knightmares swarmed out of the inner buildings. Lean humanoid shapes, slick black skin covered by white armour, clutching Assault Rifles and glowing Maser Vibration Swords, tiny eyes glaring from under broad, black brows, emblazoned with a symbol that looked like a bird with spread wings. They came on, firing in short bursts like seasoned veterans, each burst striking home. The _Akatsuki_s returned fire, but most of their shots bounced off the gleaming white armour. Then the newcomers were upon them, the Black Knights dodging and leaping as the melee commenced.

Kallen watched in horror. She could see it all on her tactical screen; the enemy icons swarming like so many angry bees around the friendly icons. Her heart clenched at every friendly icon that turned to LOST.

She was Captain of Zero Squadron, held in reserve for such an eventuality. She had to intervene. But Zero was in trouble, menaced by a Knight Giga-Fortress of all things. Zero Squadron was supposed to be his bodyguard unit, tasked with his protection.

Should she go to him? Or to her beleaguered fellows? Where might she be of more use?

"Captain!" It was Suzuhara, of her squadron. "Don't worry about us! Help Zero!"

"Right!"

* * *

She was alive.

Cornelia pushed herself up, wreckage falling away as she struggled free. She gulped down a breath, the cold air soothing her burning lungs.

She had thought she would die. She had thought she would die in there, alone, trapped in the darkness. Buried alive.

Like the men at Santiago…

She pushed the thought aside. No time for that now. She glanced around, trying to figure out what was going on. She could hear gunfire, and the whoosh of knightmares in flight. There was obviously a battle going on, but who was attacking?

She looked around again, looking for something she could use. The ceiling of the cell block had collapsed in, leaving a large hole through which she could see the city outside, but the door leading in was still visible.

In that instant, a teal knightmare soared overhead. Cornelia stared after it, noting the colour scheme and configuration, that vaguely avian look.

Her heart sank. She had hoped for a moment that it might have been Guilford and the Glaston Knights come to rescue her. No such luck. It was the Black Knights.

The flicker of despair vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. She had no time to mope around feeling sorry for herself, not if she intended to get out of there alive.

Cornelia headed for the door, stepping over the wreckage with practised ease. She paused upon reaching it, pressing herself to the wall and reaching a cautious hand to the control. The building was far better constructed than she had expected, for the door slid open at the touch of a button. She paused, straining her ears for anyone sound in the corridor beyond.

She crept along the corridor, nerves tingling in readiness. Not wanting to risk the elevator, she chose the stairwell instead, heading down into the lower levels. If there was anything left in the building, anything useful, it would be down there. She continued down the stairwell, and before long reached the bottom.

The door opened in front of her. Cornelia felt her heart skip a beat as she stared into those eyes. The eyes stared back, frozen in bewilderment.

The man moved first, bringing up his assault rifle. But Cornelia was faster, batting the rifle aside with one hand and driving the other into his throat. She grabbed the rifle as the force of the blow flung him backwards, hitting the opposite wall with a crash. In an instant the rifle was in her hands, aimed at the hapless enemy's torso. His hand dropped to his belt, to the holstered handgun. Cornelia fired.

The blood ceased pounding in her ears. She could hear them yelling and clanking, behind the door at the end of the corridor. She stepped over the body, pausing only to relieve the deceased of his handgun and stuff it in her belt.

The door slid open, another man in the Order's uniform peering out with rifle at the ready. Cornelia fired, her burst catching him before he could react. The man fell in a spray of blood, slumping forward into the doorway. Someone shouted something inside the chamber. The door began to slide shut, only to hit the body and slide back again.

Cornelia moved, darting forward and through the open door. Her racing mind registered another rifle aiming her way. A quick burst, then another, and another.

Silence.

Cornelia paid the bodies little mind. They all wore the white uniforms of the Geass Order, though now stained red with blood. She felt nothing for their deaths.

What drew her attention was the knightmare frame standing in the centre of the chamber. The dead men and women must have been trying to get it operational.

Cornelia took a moment to marvel at it. A sleek, rounded humanoid shape, its armour the colour of polished marble. The endoskeleton was largely invisible, covered by a skin-like layer of glossy black under the white armour. It had a curiously organic look to it, as if it were a giant in armour rather than a war machine.

GX-01 _Alpha_.

But what was it doing _there_?

* * *

Lelouch hissed, part in fear, part in frustration, as the _Siegfried _came at him again. He yanked on the joysticks, his _Shinkiro_ flashing sideways. The larger machine flashed past, its slipstream buffeting him. He gritted his teeth, drawing hard and steady on the joysticks. He stabilized.

The _Siegfried_ came about, vernier thrusters firing in rapid bursts, main engines flashing blue-white. Lelouch could make out the deep trenches cut in the orange-golden armour, down which the lance-like Slash Harkens might traverse. He calculated their firing arcs in his head, thinking back to the Battle of Tokyo, when he had seen it for the first time.

It was not a pleasant memory. Whatever they had done to it in rebuilding, the _Siegfried_ was at least as powerful as it had been back then.

"I don't believe it," CC protested, floating nearby in her pink _Akatsuki_. "He's using the _Siegfried_ here?"

"Get out of here!" Lelouch yelled, dodging another pass from the _Siegfried_. You're the one he's after!" Lelouch turned and ran, the _Siegfried_ boiling after him. If he could get it far enough away from the others, he reckoned he might be able to dodge it well enough for the _Ikaruga_ to fire.

But the _Siegfried_ halted suddenly, as bullets spattered over its shields.

"Oh?" The _Siegfried_ turned to face Jeremiah's _Sutherland_. The blue knightmare hovered, emptying its Assault Rifle into the giga-fortress, to no apparent effect. At the same time, Rolo's _Vincent_ ascended to join Lelouch, followed closely by Kallen's _Guren._

"Hold it right there VV!" Jeremiah barked.

"Please!" Rolo pleaded. "Just surrender!"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" The child's voice was languid, almost amused. "You're nothing but a bunch of traitors aren't you. Traitors to the Order, traitors to the Messiah, and to our one true God."

"VV!" Lelouch barked. "Your vile plot ends here! Attack!"

"Yes your Majesty!" Jeremiah levelled his coilgun and fired. They all did likewise, bullets and _Shinkiro_'s Hadron blasts pummelling the giga-fortress' shields. VV let out a laugh, and the _Siegfried_ began to spin like a top. Kallen and Rolo broke left and right as the spinning _Siegfried _came at them, cutting through the air like a shuriken.

"_That spinning shield…_"

Lelouch gritted his teeth in frustration. He knew only too well how difficult it was to penetrate a shield. The only ways were to apply so much force that the shield was overwhelmed, or else keep pounding at it until the projector overheated. That was what made the _Siegfried_'s spinning defence so potent, for it minimized the amount of force he could apply to any particular shield.

But he also knew that the giga-fortress could not keep that particular move up forever. Sure enough, the _Siegfried_ halted above them.

"That machine was made so that I could prove my loyalty!" Jeremiah roared.

"Jeremiah, I thought you had a personal grudge against Zero."

"I did, because I thought he was a mere commoner preventing me from serving the Imperial family!" Lelouch could hear the vehemence in Jeremiah's tone, and in spite of everything it still mildly surprised him.

"But know I know who he is!" Jeremiah went on, his voice rising in exultation. "By serving him, I am serving my lady Marianne!"

Something changed. Though it was only a machine, Lelouch could nonetheless _feel_ something, something in the _Siegfried_'s demeanour.

VV was _angry_.

"Even you…" His voice was no longer languid, but low and cold. No longer the voice of the child's body, but of the immortal man inside it.

"You _dare_ speak her name to me!" The _Siegfried_ turned on Jeremiah, lashing out with its green lances. The _Sutherland_ dodged, dodged again, the deadly lances whistling past.

"What was she to you!" Lelouch demanded. "What have you against my mother!"

"Your _mother_!" VV roared. "The black temptress who gave birth to the black rebel! Lelouch the Deceiver!"

Ordinarily such words would have infuriated him. But Lelouch was already too angry for them to have much effect.

"The Deceiver!" he snapped back. "Am I part of your Unholy Trinity? Your false theology!"

"False?" VV turned his lances on Lelouch, forcing him to dodge and dive. "Do you deny that you are a deceiver? Do you deny that you've deceived every person you've ever known? Is there really _one_ person you've never kept anything from!"

"I had no choice!"

"Of course you didn't! That's what made you perfect for the role!"

Lelouch willed his rage to calm, though it blazed sun-hot within him. He gripped the joysticks tightly, trying to think of _something. _All he had for the moment was combining his Hadron cannon with Kallen's Radiant Wave Surger, but VV was unlikely to be so courteous as to hold still for them.

"Rolo! I need you to keep him occupied! Keep all his attention on you for as long as you can!"

"I'll do my best!" Rolo dived his _Vincent_ straight at the _Siegfried_, sword-staff at the ready.

"So now it's Rolo's turn." VV's languor had returned. "Even though you know your powers won't work on me."

"I won't let you hurt Lelouch any longer!" Rolo snarled, slashing at one of the lances with his sword-staff. The glowing blade sliced away the tip. "I won't let you hurt the people he loves any longer!"

"You could have been an angel, Rolo." VV sounded wistful, almost regretful. "You may be a flawed instrument, but you still could have been an angel. The Messiah would have forgiven you, if you had only kept the faith."

"Blasphemer!" Jeremiah roared.

"Have you heard yourself!" Kallen spluttered, dodging another lance. "You actually believe your own propaganda!"

"Propaganda?" VV chuckled. Lelouch found himself marvelling at the immortal's arrogance, that he felt able to hold a conversation while fighting a battle. "How little you understand."

"Why Faramond!" Lelouch demanded. "Why him!"

"Do you suppose Messiahs grow on trees?" VV brought his giga-fortress up and about, beginning an attack run at Lelouch. "Why run risks, when we could just make one? All we needed was the right raw materials, and the right conditions." He charged at the _Shinkiro_, forcing it to dodge.

"So that's why," Lelouch growled. Black bile flooded through him. "That's why he let it happen. That's why he let it go on for all those years."

"Spare the rod and spoil the child," VV chuckled. "We couldn't have him turning out spoilt and wilful like you, now could we?"

"Lelouch! This guy's starting to piss me off!" Kallen groused.

"You're not the only one," Lelouch growled back.

"Dammit! Keep still!" But the _Siegfried _kept on moving.

"You dare harm a Prince of the blood!" Jeremiah bellowed, firing like a madman. "Blasphemer! Liar and deceiver!"

"Oh shut up Jeremiah!" Two lances caught the _Sutherland_, smashing it from the sky. The wreckage tumbled down, the cockpit blasting away to safety.

Rolo saw his chance. The _Vincent _dived in again, this time approaching head-on.

"If I can just grab onto it!"

"You're a failed experiment, don't you know that?" The immortal's voice was sneering, mocking. "Your heart stops every time you use your geass. That means you're defective. You could conk out at any moment."

The words cut into Rolo's heart, clouding his mind for a fraction of an instant. Two Slash Harkens leapt from the _Siegfried_'s face, curling and lashing around the _Vincent_'s legs. The legs came away in a shower of sparks.

"Rolo!" Lelouch exclaimed, horrified.

"Not enough!" Rolo hissed, as his maimed _Vincent_ dived in, crashing into the _Siegfried_'s face. "I made it!"

But VV was ready for him. _Siegfried_'s face changed, two modules extending out to either side, as if it were puffing its cheeks. Lightning crackled between them, tormenting the crippled _Vincent._ Rolo _screamed. _

"Kallen!" Lelouch yelled. "Now! It's his only chance!"

"Right!" Kallen thrust her heavy gauntlet forward, red and black radiation crackling around it. _Shinkiro_'s chest split open, revealing the Zero Beam.

They fired in unison. His, a needle beam of pink radiance. Hers, a column of black and red malevolence. The _Siegfried_ lurched as they struck, the blow shaking the damaged _Vincent _loose. The _Vincent_ fell, and Lelouch feared that he might be too badly hurt to regain control. Then the wings glowed, and the _Vincent_ righted itself, dropping lightly onto the sand.

The _Siegfried_ shuddered, engines flaring bright. It seemed to be fighting back against the beams, as if too proud to back away. The shield glowed bright, so bright that neither Lelouch nor Kallen could see the giga-fortress underneath.

The charge ran out. The beams faded away.

The _Siegfried_ floated there, intact.

Kallen bellowed something rather rude, and Lelouch snarled in frustration. What would it take to defeat that thing?

And then he saw something. He saw the air around the _Siegfried_ shimmering. Shimmering, as it did on the desert sands below.

"You've got a lot of firepower between you," VV commented. "So you'll forgive me if I put an end to this." The _Siegfried _rotated to face them. Lelouch checked his power gauge, and his heart sank. His Energy Filler, which would otherwise have lasted him many hours, was down to almost nothing.

His one shot had failed. It had bought him an opening, but he had nothing to exploit it with. He reached for the comm keyboard. He would order the _Ikaruga _to open fire regardless of the risk.

His hand did not reach the comm keyboard.

Lelouch stared as the _Siegfried_ lurched, explosions blossoming from its underside. Had someone else come to help?

A white shape leapt from the hole, heading straight for the _Siegfried_. Lelouch saw it drive its blade into the _Siegfried_'s underside, then drop away in a flurry of explosions. It dropped to the ground, and Lelouch could see it clearly.

A knightmare.

"_Ikaruga_! Target and fire!"

The dorsal railguns fired, their shots turning the air to plasma. One whistled past the _Siegfried_, the slipstream knocking it down to be clipped by the other. The tungsten-carbide dart passed straight through, the hull warping and distorting around it.

The _Siegfried_ fell, tumbling wreathed in smoke. It struck the rock outcropping, vanishing in a cloud of dust as the outcropping collapsed inward. Lelouch felt his pounding heart slow, even as he turned his attention to the white knightmare.

Which was aiming a fire-support coilgun straight at him.

Lelouch froze, his mind a sudden blank. A bright flash brought him to his senses, and he slammed the pedals down. The _Shinkiro_ ascended, the shot cutting through the air underneath. His console beeped insistently, the power gauge flashing red.

Then Rolo acted. The gold _Vincent_ arose behind the white knightmare, borne up by its float unit. The white knightmare seemed to notice, and began to turn, only for a flash of pink light to burst from the _Vincent_, resolving itself momentarily into a translucent pink hemisphere, before it vanished.

The white knightmare froze as Rolo's geass took effect. The gold _Vincent_ leapt forward, barrelling into the white knightmare and knocking it to the ground.

"Rolo!" Lelouch yelled. "Get away from there! Your heart…!"

"Just a little bit longer!" Rolo hissed, raising his MVS-staff over his knightmare's head. He drove the blade down, into the fallen knightmare's waist. The white knightmare twitched and struggled.

"Lelouch! I've got this one!" CC flew her pink _Akatsuki_ down, drawing her Heat Katana. "Go and help the others!" She kicked away the coilgun, then drove her blade into the white knightmare's waist as Rolo had done. The knightmare twitched once more, then lay still. Lelouch stared down at them for a few moments, then resolved himself.

"Look after Rolo," he told her.

"I will."

"Thank you." He switched channels. "_Ikaruga, _move in and secure the white knightmare. Rolo and Jeremiah may need medical attention."

"Yes Zero!" As the _Ikaruga_ drifted into position, Lelouch flew his _Shinkiro_ over to the hole, followed by Kallen.

As he descended, he saw that the battle was not going well. The Order's forces had driven back his Black Knights, penning them in a single quarter of the city, around the assembly point. The rock outcropping had completely collapsed, crushing a significant portion of the city. The _Siegfried_ lay atop the wreckage, a blasted, blackened derelict.

The area of devastation led right up to the central tower, which apart from some holes was largely intact. One hole in particular drew his attention, the big one some way up the tower, from which the _Siegfried_ had emerged only a few minutes earlier.

"Kallen," he said. "Go help the others."

"I should stay with you."

"This is for me alone, Kallen."

"Right." Lelouch watched the _Guren_ head off. He could sense Kallen's reluctance, though he did not know whether it was purely professional or something else.

He flew the _Shinkiro _through the hole, landing it inside. As the ascension cable lowered him to the floor, he saw that he was in a vaulted chamber, the walls decorated with painted murals. The walls and ceilings were cracked in places, and chunks of masonry lay on the floor. Lelouch wandered along the wall to his left, regarding the images in disturbed fascination.

He had seen them before, or rather he had seen images very much like them. The mural closest to the wall, in which the _Siegfried_'s exit had left a large hole, showed a radiant, angelic figure, looking like an idealized Faramond. He was reaching out a glowing hand to a rabble of kneeling, weeping figures, holding out their manacled wrists, the chains falling away. The next one had the same figure, but this time he was reaching out a hand to what looked like a cave, a boulder standing next to the entrance. In the mouth of the cave stood a young woman, bathed in radiance, a beatific smile upon her face. She looked vaguely like Euphemia. The next showed a figure he was sure was Suzaku, clad in gleaming armour and a white mantle, kneeling before another Messiah figure.

"_Icons_," Lelouch thought, feeling sick inside. They were indeed icons, devotional images for the new religion, to be painted on the walls of its temples to instruct and inspire the faithful.

But it was the mural on the opposite wall that really got Lelouch's attention. For one thing it was much bigger, spanning the whole length and height of the wall. Whereas the previous murals had been focussed and succinct, the opposite mural was unsparing in its detail and scope. It would not have looked out of place on the ceiling of a great cathedral.

The image was divided in two, in a classic Manichean dichotomy. The side of 'good' was on the right, with the Messiah figure in the lead, haloed in white light. Around him were angelic figures, clad in shining armour and bearing swords of fire. Behind them were some larger figures, looking suspiciously like the white knightmare from before. Lelouch's attention was drawn to the leader of the angels, who looked somewhat like Suzaku. That particular figure was engaged in fierce combat with its polar opposite, identical but all in black, his face and hair ghostly white, his sword a flaming brand of black and blue. The warrior demon led a company of his own, clad in similar armour but without wings, their faces covered by red-visored masks. A little way behind him were two more figures, each with their own hosts of darkness. One stood on high, robes of white and purple billowing around him, arms stretched out as if wreaking some dire magic. Bolts of lightning flashed from the heavens above him, striking at the land and tearing it asunder even as good and evil struggled. The third figure was between the other two, directing a flight of winged warrior-demons into the battle. His black cloak billowed in the wind, the light gleaming off his mirror-vizored mask.

Lelouch looked around the edges for a caption. It was embossed in stone along the bottom.

_And he gathered them together, in the place of decision, all the hosts of light. There to battle the legions of darkness, of the Unholy Trinity, the Betrayer, the Deceiver, and the Destroyer, for seven days and seven nights. The earth was shattered and put asunder, and the people cast down unto ruin and desolation. _

"_So,_" Lelouch thought. "_I'm the devil, am I? Or at least one of three." _He threw back his head, and laughed.

When he could laugh no more, he turned his attention to the door. It was tall, and ornately carved, like something from his father's palace. One of the double doors was ajar, purple light streaming through the gap.

Purple light, of the same shade as that being given off by the Thought Elevator.

Lelouch steeled himself, pulled the handgun from its holster at his waist, then crept towards the door. He paused as he reached it, leaning gingerly back to push the door open, handgun at the ready. Willing his pounding heart to still, he nudged the door back and stepped inside, gun up to fire.

Beyond the door was a vaulted chamber, not unlike the one he had just left. The opposite wall was an elaborate frieze, decorated with a symbol he knew well, with a stepped dais in front of it.

There was someone lying on the dais. A small figure, with white-blond hair billowing down past its feet. Blood pooled on the stone beside it.

Slowly, cautiously, Lelouch approached the dais. He squatted down beside the prone figure, looking at it more closely. He saw it to be a young boy, maybe ten or twelve years old, clad in scorched robes that had once been white and purple. The boy was lying with his head on one side, his eyes flicking to meet Lelouch's gaze.

"You are VV?" It was only a guess, for he had never seen his immortal uncle before. "What happened?"

"Let him kill me…" VV croaked, his breath ragged. "But let him…" The breath rattled in his throat, and the light faded from his eyes.

For a moment Lelouch stared at the dead boy, wondering what could have happened. Then, as if drawn to it, he turned his eyes to the frieze. As his gaze fell upon the bird-wing symbol at the centre of the image, it began to glow. The luminescence spread along the carved grooves, light dancing about the image. The light seemed to reach for him. Lelouch tried to move, but even as he sensed the danger, the light was upon him.

And he was no longer in the vaulted chamber.

He was standing on a wide plinth, of what might have been marble. Before him was a series of ovoids, arranged as a set of stairs. They led up to what appeared to be a temple, its style broadly Greco-Roman, illuminated in the light of the setting sun. There were clouds all around him, as if the place was hovering in the air.

"What is this place?" he said aloud, looking around in bewilderment. "It's not an illusion, or a hologram."  
"That is correct Lelouch!" Lelouch froze, for the voice was as familiar as the setting was bizarre.

Standing at the top of the steps was a tall, broad-shouldered man, clad in a black cloak. His hair was white, arranged in rolls, his imperious features wearing a smile of profound satisfaction.

Lelouch's heart stopped.

"Welcome Lelouch, my black bishop!" Charles zi Britannia boomed, his voice echoing through the void around them. "It's been a long time."

* * *

Shinichiro Tamaki was getting desperate.

Commando B company was hard-pressed. The Order members had been coming at them almost constantly for many minutes. They had come on like fanatics or madmen, screaming at the tops of their voices, firing their rifles on full-auto. They had not hit many of his fellows, and had been gunned down like wheat before a scythe, but their constant presence had been a problem. There had been little time to reload, let alone swig some water or take stock. There had been only a strange madness, the constant roar of assault rifles and shotguns, punctuated the screams of the dying.

The attacks had slackened, and Tamaki was beginning to believe that the battle might soon be over.

But then the white knightmares had come. They had not attacked the Black Knights infantry, which was a relief. They had focussed on the knightmares instead, their aggression and prowess making Tamaki grateful that he had chosen to fight on foot. He was not sure how long he would have lasted against such foes.

Except that the white knightmares were accompanied by infantry. They wore Britannian-style armour, but coloured in the same marble-white as the knightmares. They were considerably more skilled than their erstwhile colleagues, fighting like real soldiers rather than crazed fanatics.

Tamaki crouched with the soldiers of Company B, in a pile of wreckage that had once been a tall, elegant building. He poked his head up, glancing around for any sight of the enemy.

He could see them. A group of about six, creeping through the rubble towards them. They were carrying assault rifles.

That was a small mercy. It wasn't like in the old movies, where soldiers sometimes carried enormous machine guns that needed two or three men to operate them. Modern hand-held coilguns, with long ranges and high rates of fire made possible by electromagnetic barrels and caseless ammunition, had relegated them to being carried on vehicles.

Tamaki gestured at his fellows, hoping he was getting the hand signals right. The commandos readied themselves, suggesting that he had made himself understood. He looked again, and saw that they were in greater numbers. As the first six continued their approach, another six were approaching parallel to them, with yet another six bringing up the rear.

The commandos fired first, in a group from Tamaki's right. Two of the first six fell, the rest diving for cover. They returned fire, bullets tearing at the rubble from which the Black Knights had fired. Tamaki saw the commandos near him open fire on the white-armoured soldiers, and he shifted in his spot to do likewise. He felt the familiar weight on his shoulder as he fired, and the satisfaction as a white-armoured enemy fell.

But the second six were coming up, threatening the commandos on the left. Tamaki ducked as they fired, hearing the hiss and feeling the slipstream as their shots passed overhead. He rose again, preparing to fire, only to see one of the first six draw back his arm.

"Grenade!" he yelled, as the tiny shape sailed through the air. He heard it clatter in the debris to his right. He pulled the trigger, dropping the unsuspecting grenadier.

The grenade exploded, the sound a roar in Tamaki's ears, punctuated by the screams of the wounded. He felt the blast wave wash over him, and shook his head to regain equilibrium. No more fire came from the right.

Tamaki hissed in frustration, and more than a little fear. The third six were moving to the right, no longer menaced by Black Knights fire. Things were looking bad.

Then something happened.

One of the third six suddenly disappeared. Tamaki blinked, and looked around to see if someone else was firing. But he could see no one else.

Then another one vanished. And another. And another.

The Order soldiers seemed to have noticed, for they no longer fired at the Black Knights. Tamaki could see them looking around, searching for whatever it was that attacked them.

A burst of gunfire. Tamaki looked to see two Order soldiers firing frantically at…_something _racing over the rubble towards them. The black shape lashed out, catching one of the soldiers in the stomach, then batting it aside with a blow to the neck. As the other tried to back away, the black warrior leapt, knocking the soldier to the ground. For an instant it crouched there, and Tamaki could make out a human shape, clad in what looked like form-fitting black armour.

Then it was gone. Screams rent the air, and the gunfire grew more sparse with every passing moment. Tamaki looked around, confused and more than a little afraid, wondering what on earth had descended upon his enemies. Was this some miracle of Zero's? Or was this some other power?

He saw a lone enemy soldier scrambling away, and something inside him knew what would happen. Tamaki felt his body freeze as another black shape appeared behind the unfortunate soldier. An armoured forearm flashed around the soldier's neck, and his chest seemed to balloon outward. The soldier fell, and the black shape was gone.

Tamaki came to a decision.

"FALL BACK!"

* * *

"It's _you_!" Lelouch snarled, as his addled mind accepted what his eyes told it.

"It is I!" The Emperor's voice rose in exultation. "Charles the Britannian, he who shall redeem the world!"

Lelouch's mind was in motion. His father stood atop the steps, many tens of metres away. His own Geass was well within range, but he did not know the range of his father's. During their last encounter the range had been almost point-blank. Perhaps it was no more than that, or was his father waiting?

Waiting for what?

"You shall tell me the truth!" Lelouch bellowed. "You shall tell me what happened eight years ago! Why did mother die!"

"People are not equal."  
"What!" The statement caught him off-guard, however characteristic it might be.

"You have a power no one else possesses," Charles went on. "Use it to ascertain the truth!"

"_He wants me to use my Geass,_" Lelouch thought. "_But if I look into his eyes, he will look into mine. He could rewrite my memory..._"

"What's wrong?" the Emperor mocked. "Are you not my son? A Prince of Britannia?"

Lelouch acted. He brought up his hand, touching it to his eye. The contact lens came away, and with a thought he activated his Geass. His father had not moved.

"Lelouch vi Britannia commands you! Die!"

For a few moments his father did not move, nor did he speak. Lelouch began to wonder if the Geass had taken effect.

"Very well." Lelouch watched, heart pounding, as Charles drew a handgun from inside his blue jacket. He stared, half-disbelieving, as his father put the gun to his chest, and pulled the trigger. The shot rang in his ears as his father fell down.

On shaking legs, Lelouch ascended the steps. As he reached the top, he looked down at his father's prone form. Even then a part of him could not believe it. He could not be dead. That man could _not_ be dead. Not that easily.

But even then his eyes were drawn to the Emperor's heart, where a black hole turned his blue jacket red.

"I killed him," he whispered. "It was so easy."

It seemed wrong somehow, perverse. That he should die so easily, so quickly, with so many questions unanswered and so many debts unpaid. And yet there he was, dead. As dead as any other man might be.

Lelouch had dreamed of that moment, of the day when he would avenge his mother, and all the others his father had hurt. He had never really believed that he would feel happy, or even satisfied. He was not so naïve as that.

But anything would have been better than how he felt in that moment. He felt only emptiness, a void where his father, his purpose had been. He had gotten what he wanted, what he had sacrificed everything to achieve.

"Are you satisfied?" he whispered bitterly. "Are you satisfied now?"

"No," his dead father replied, opening his eyes. "Not yet." Lelouch watched in mute horror as Charles stood up.

"You will not get rid of me that easily, my black bishop."

"You…!" Lelouch could barely think. It made no sense. How could he take such an injury and yet stand up as if nothing had happened?

"Nothing to say, Lelouch? Or do you now understand?" Lelouch gave a yell of rage and denial. He whipped up his handgun and opened fire, bullets ripping into his father's flesh, the wounds spurting blood. All to no effect.

"I am beyond the power of mortal weapons!" Charles swiped at him, knocking the gun from his hands. Lelouch stood there, shivering in terror as he gazed into those mad, exultant eyes. In that instant he was the ten-year-old boy he had been eight years earlier, defying his father only to be cast down.

And cast down he was, as Charles punched him in the stomach. He fell down the stairs, the breath knocked out of him, his body screaming in pain as he struck the plinth on which he had arrived.

"I have started on the final journey, by the power of this Code!" Charles pulled the white glove from his right hand and held it out, palm facing Lelouch. He saw the symbol emblazoned across it, the same symbol he had seen upon CC's breast.

He understood.

"And now!" A column rose from the floor next to Charles, halting at just above waist height. "I will show you the true nature of this world!" Charles touched the top of the column, as if it were a control panel of some kind.

Lelouch felt himself falling, heard himself scream.

* * *

Kallen thrust the controls forward, driving her _Guren_'s gauntlet into the white plastron. She squeezed the trigger, pumping deadly microwave radiation into the unfortunate knightmare. The Order knightmare bubbled and distorted under its white armour, then blew apart.

But there were more of them. Four more of the white-armoured knightmares, circling her with drawn swords. She was on the ground, surrounded, with her Energy Filler running low.

There was only one thing to do when surrounded.

Kallen pressed down the pedals. The _Guren_ leapt forward, ploughing into the knightmare directly in front, knocking it to the ground. She pinned it with her gauntlet, forcing her wrist autocannon under its white plastron. She fired, the knightmare bucking and bouncing. She leapt back, soaring away as the white knightmare exploded, somersaulting over the enemy that had been behind her. It raced beneath her, starting to turn as she lined up her autocannon. She fired again, the bullets tearing into the float unit on its back. The float unit exploded, and the white knightmare crashed to the ground.

Two enemies remained. One of them fired its assault-rifle one-handed, bullets hissing past her as she dodged. She raised her autocannon to fire, but nothing happened. She glanced at her console, saw the warning light. Out of ammunition.

The fourth came at her from behind. The glowing blade sliced down, tearing through her float unit. Kallen gasped as it exploded, holding tight as her _Guren_ fell. She managed to land on her feet, swiping with her gauntlet at the fourth enemy, making it pull out and fall back. The third fired on her again, warning lights flashing as bullets smashed _Guren_'s right knee.

Kallen gave a yell of frustration as her knightmare fell to its knees. Her eyes flashed over the console and screens, looking for _something _she could use. Nothing. All she could see was the third knightmare striding towards her in front, and the icon on her scanner screen, representing the fourth, approaching her from behind.

She steeled herself. She would wait until the last possible moment, then rush them one last time. If it didn't work, at least she would go down fighting.

"_Lelouch…_"

The icon vanished from her screen. Kallen snapped her head up, and saw _something_ flash overhead, landing on the white knightmare in front. The knightmare thrashed, trying to shake off the attacker, but the black shape held on. It leapt away, and an instant later the white knightmare blew apart.

The black shape dropped to the ground in front of her, and Kallen could see it clearly. It was human, in what appeared to be form-fitting armour, glossy black like a beetle's carapace. It straightened up, and looked as though it was preparing to leave.

"Wait!" Kallen yelled over the loudspeaker. "Who are you! Why did you help me! Why did you help me before!"

She was certain of it. She was _sure_ it was the same one that had helped her back in Brussels. This was one of the _Furiae,_ the ones CC had told her about, the ones the Order feared. The living shadows.

The Fury half-turned, regarding her with its red visor. Kallen stared at it, wondering why it seemed familiar, trying to think where she had seen that stance before. Who was it who had looked at her like that?

Her heart stopped.

"Naoto?" The word was barely a whisper, so quiet the sound system probably didn't pick it up. The Fury turned away.

"NAOTO!" Kallen screamed, the name of her beloved, lost brother bursting from her as if her heart had exploded. "It's you, isn't it! Naoto!" The Fury paused, and Kallen wondered if she had gotten through to him.

Then the Fury broke into a run.

"No! Wait!" Kallen shrieked, tears streaming down her face as she yanked at the controls, trying to get her crippled knightmare to move. "Naoto!"

The Fury kept on running.

* * *

Masks.

All was white around him, save for the masks. They were white too, but for the pattern in red that decorated them, featureless but for one eyehole. They were all around him, staring at him, as if accusing him.

The white faded, replaced by cogs. Countless cogs, interconnecting, rotating.

"_Is this some sort of metaphor_?" Lelouch thought, frantic. "_Am I…inside his psyche?_"

His father appeared before him, his coat still stained with blood.

"What is this place!" Lelouch demanded. "What is Geass!"

"You ask me that?" Charles mocked. He seemed to grow in Lelouch's perspective, coming closer and closer, only to disappear. "You who wear a false name, who lives a false life, demands the truth of _me_?"

"I demand it!" Lelouch roared back. "I demand the truth you kept from me! Why did you let my mother die!"

"Always you think of her," Charles' voice whispered from all around him. "Always she is in your thoughts. She and who else?"

"My sister Nunnally! Whose future you stole! Whom your negligence condemned to paralysis and darkness!"

"For whom you donned the mask?" Lelouch stare as one of the masks metamorphosed into an image of Zero. "Or was it for yourself!" The doppleganger's mask vanished, revealing his own mirror image, staring back at him.

"No!" Lelouch protested. "It's not like that!"

"For your own satisfaction," his doppleganger replied. "For your own vanity, though it cost you Euphie, Nunnally, and Suzaku."

"I had no choice!" Lelouch snapped back. "People lie to survive! No one is blameless!"

"You want others to know you for who you really are," his father's voice interjected. "Yet you show them only a mask."

"You are afraid they'll discover your true self," said the doppleganger, accusation in his eyes. "You are afraid that they will judge you, and find you wanting!"

"No!"

"Your mask avails you nothing." His father materialized behind him. "For it is only a reflection of yourself. You are me, and I am you."

"No!" Lelouch roared, rounding on him. "Never! We're not the same!"  
"Look within yourself, upon the face that your mask reflects," his father replied. "Look into that place where you dare not look. You will find me there, staring back at you." Lelouch's breath caught in his throat, his mind addled with terror and rage.

"You know this truth and hate it, as you know and hate yourself," Charles went on. "You crave absolution, yet you cling to your purpose."

"That's enough Charles." A familiar voice cut through Lelouch's terror. He looked to his right as two of the enormous cogs rolled aside, revealing CC.

"CC," Charles growled. "So you came."

"Yes, I did." CC looked straight at him, her face expressionless. "And now I'm going to leave. With Lelouch."

"Oh will you?" Charles met her gaze without flinching. "Though you know I have the other Code?"

"The Code you took from your own brother," CC replied. Her tone was without feeling, her gaze without animosity, yet she accused him with her countenance. "What did he do to deserve that?"

"What did he do?" Charles' eyes flashed with sudden anger. "Haven't you guessed by now?" He swept his arm, and the cogs disappeared.

The world resolved itself into an entrance hall, of the sort that might be found in a grand house. At the foot of the grand staircase stood two figures, one tall, one short. The short figure was swathed in a black cloak, while the other wore an orange gown.

CC glanced at Lelouch, from whose face the colour had drained.

"So then, Vincent," Marianne vi Britannia said conversationally. "What was so important that you needed to meet like this?"

"I'm sorry to do this," VV replied, turning to face her. "Especially without Charles around."

"Is this about Faramond?"

"No. It's about Charles. Ever since you met him he's been a different man. It seems you two have been enjoying your lives together."

Marianne's face, so much like her son's, suddenly shifted. The slight smile was replaced by a frown of suspicion.

"If this continues," VV went on, "the contract he and I made will never be fulfilled. And what will become of me then?" Marianne did not reply.

"Strange, is it not?" VV eyed her, with what might have been amusement. "In so many stories, the woman leads the man astray." Marianne's frown twisted into a grimace.

"What are you…!"

"Mother!" The voice of a little girl cut through the mood. The anger vanished from Marianne's face as she turned to see an over-excited six-year-old Nunnally race down the stairs towards her. Behind Marianne, VV vanished behind a ceiling column. Nunnally did not seem to have noticed him. An instant later two stewards came hurrying down the stairs, followed a few seconds later by an harassed-looking nine-year-old Lelouch.

"Nunnally!" the child-Lelouch called after his sister.

"Please forgive us, your Majesty!" one of the stewards pleaded, as they halted about halfway up the stairs. "We…"

"It's all right." Marianne's tone was motherly sweetness, as she scooped up her giggling daughter. "I take it you couldn't find Anya."

"No!" Nunnally proclaimed, smiling. "Not anywhere!"

"Well then," Marianne smiled, shifting her daughter to carry her more easily. "Let's all look for her together." She started up the stairs.

"No…" Lelouch whimpered, as the scene played out before him.

The guns chattered. The windows shattered. The bullets thudded into the stairs. Stewards and Empress fell.

The scene faded into darkness. Lelouch hung his head, shaking.

"Jealousy is a terrible thing," CC commented mildly. "Then again, he was always immature."

"My brother lied to me," Charles growled. "He lied to me, after everything that had gone between us, after everything we had seen, after all the promises we had made."

"Is that why you betrayed him?" Lelouch hissed. "That's why, isn't it!" He rounded on his father with fury in his eyes. "That's why you used me! That's why you let it all happen!" Charles did not reply. CC remained silent.

"Schneizel could have stopped me from liberating Japan, but you withheld the reinforcements," Lelouch snarled. "You knew that I would do everything I could to ruin his plans in Europe. So you sent Faramond to him, providing me with the perfect way to weaken his position. By letting me take Faramond, you provoked VV into moving against me, gambling that he would screw it up, and that I would figure out his plan and react accordingly. You made me the instrument of your revenge!"

"Yes I did!" Charles roared back. "Just as she," he jabbed an accusing finger at CC, "made you the instrument of her release!"

"What!" Lelouch looked at CC. "What does he mean!"

"He refers to our contract," CC replied, unperturbed. "The contract you made with me, to fulfil my wish. My wish is to die."

"To die!" Lelouch was incredulous. "How…how could you….?" He trailed off. CC regarded him for a moment, then turned to glance at Charles.

"You're still here?" she said, as if he were an uninvited guest. Charles looked momentarily surprised, then vanished. Lelouch gaped.

"Well what did you expect?" CC asked, deadpan. "Pyrotechnics? A long, drawn-out scream?"

"What happened to him?"

"I sent him out the way he came in," CC explained. "Were it not for the Code I could have destroyed him utterly, but this was the best I could do."

"What will he do now?"

"No doubt he'll use whatever he had planned for this eventuality." CC held out a hand. "I think it best that we go." Lelouch nodded, and took her hand.

And they were back in the chamber. The light had faded from the frieze. Gunfire still echoed in the distance.

"Zero!" came a voice in his earpiece. "Zero! Please respond!"

"This is Zero," Lelouch replied, touching the earpiece. "Report!"

"Zero!" It was Tamaki, and he sounded scared. "There's someone else in here! Someone, or something! It's attacking the enemy!"

"What are they? Knightmares?"

"No! It's like nothing I've ever seen before! It's like…like…"

"Living shadows?" Lelouch suggested, feeling cold in his stomach.

"Yeah, like that." Lelouch glanced at CC.

"Yes," she said, answering his unspoken question. "Them."

"All units!" Lelouch roared, dashing for the _Shinkiro_. "Fall back to the assembly point! _Ikaruga_, what's your status!"

"We've just started hauling up the _Siegfried_!" Rolo's voice replied. "Should we dump it?"  
"No! It'll take just as long to detach the cables! Bring it up as fast as you can! Extract the foot personnel while you're at it!"

"Yes Zero!" As CC reached her _Akatsuki_, Lelouch grabbed the ascension cable, letting it haul him up to his _Shinkiro_'s cockpit. He brought the systems online, even as the cockpit slid shit above him. He was in the air within a minute, his heart pounding as he glanced across his screens, taking in the situation.

The Order's counter-attack had slackened noticeably. Their forces were distracted, firing seemingly at random. His own forces were consolidating, drawing back away from the fighting as he had ordered. The _Ikaruga_ was hovering over the hole, the remains of the _Siegfried_ slowly ascending towards it, wrapped in heavy-lifting hawsers. He could see ascension cables too, carrying the wounded up on gurneys.

He felt a twinge of nervousness, as he realised he couldn't see the _Guren_ anywhere. He looked down at his scanner, trying to find Kallen's icon.

He found it, some distance away from the Black Knights line, standing still. He keyed his comm.

"Kallen! Fall back!"

"I can't move!" Her voice was hoarse. "My float unit's wrecked and my battery's dead!"

"It's okay! I'm coming!" Lelouch manoeuvred the _Shinkiro_ down, landing it behind the downed _Guren. _Gently, as if embracing her, he put his knightmare's arms around hers. Once satisfied of a good grip, Lelouch lifted off, bearing the _Guren _skyward and away.

* * *

It was over.

The sounds of gunfire no longer echoed through the vast chamber. The cacophony of battle had been replaced by other sounds. The sounds of machinery, and voices, as the work of securing the facility went underway.

Magnus stood at the edge of an open plaza, set aside for gathering the city's inhabitants. The dead lay in rows, zipped up in their body bags, ready to be shipped out. The living lay in front of him, set aside from the dead. They lay on their sides, unconscious but with hands cuffed behind their backs and ankles manacled. They were blindfolded too, their mouths blocked with tube gags to prevent them from choking. Even if they were awake, they could neither move, speak, nor see.

The Thule Society and EUROSEC were taking no chances.

Magnus strode along the line of trussed prisoners, regarding them with cold eyes. There were a large number of children among the prisoners, knocked out and bound like the rest. Magnus knew it was necessary, for many of the children possessed Geass powers of one sort or another.

Medical personnel moved here and there, checking the prisoners. Some wore the insignia of EUROFORCE medics, while others wore the dagger and wreath badge of the Thule Society. He spotted Akiko and Lukas, moving along the lines, examining each prisoner in turn. The same look was in both their eyes. A look of sadness.

Magnus had never known true empathy. But he had seen enough of life to understand the emotions of others. He saw their sadness, the same sadness he had seen in some of the other medical personnel. He understood how strongly other people tended to feel about children, especially their own. He knew the feelings children engendered in his soldiers, especially if the children had been hurt or killed. He remembered their anger and disgust, their sorrow and pity, in every burnt-out village, every ruined city.

At least the children in front of him were alive. They were better off than many of their fellows.

Or were they?

Dietlinde Eckart had insisted that the prisoners would not be harmed. They would be taken away to secure facilities, where they could be questioned and studied, where they would be safe. Magnus wanted to believe her, but a part of him did not. That part of him knew how EUROSEC would likely react, when they discovered just what they had gotten their hands on. They would want to know as much as possible, by whatever means were available. Would morality constrain them in the face of such knowledge? Would ethics turn them from such power?

Magnus was feeling something new, something no more welcome than any of the other new feelings. It was somewhat like nausea, except that it wasn't being caused by any of the usual causes. Various clichés came to mind, though none of them fitted exactly.

As he reached the end of the line, he saw two soldiers of the JL Brigade enter from the main street, lugging a body bag between them. He could hear them grumbling in their native tongue as they laid the body down, and Magnus did not blame them. Heaving dead bodies around was not a pleasant job for anyone, let alone brave soldiers.

The pair saw him wander over as they straightened up. They saluted.

"How goes it?" Magnus asked, saluting in return.

"Well sir," one of them replied. Magnus saw the barriers go up, but he was not offended. He might be their General, he might be _Hakuoh,_ but he was still an officer.

"Did you see any live ones?"

"No sir. Those…those Furies got them all." Magnus noted the man's hesitation, and understood why. He understood, for he knew the strange chill that had come upon him suddenly. He turned, and saw one of _them_ striding towards him.

The Fury was an impressive sight by anyone's standards. It was tall, clad in form-fitting black armour that gleamed in the light. Its movements were silent, made so by technology Magnus knew little about. Its mask had little in the way of features, save the shallow chevron visor, glowing a malign crimson.

Magnus did not blame his men for their fear. The Furiae were death on swift wings and silent tread. Terror was their true weapon, and they knew how to use it.

"And you are?"

"Morpheus, General." The voice bore the crackle of a comm filter, but it was still as cold as a neutron star. "I have come to report."

"You may speak, Morpheus." Magnus dismissed the two men with a nod, and they hurried away.

"The city is secure, General. My brethren have scoured the ruins and can find no one else. All live prisoners have been brought save one."

"Did you find anything?"

"Little, General. What databanks your subordinates found were all empty, the data erased. Several of the Order's knightmares have been secured, though they are all wrecks."

"Could you identify them?"

"They appear to be derivatives of Britannia's GX-01 _Alpha_ prototype, stolen a year ago. We saw the prototype itself go into action against the Order, though it was subsequently captured by the Black Knights."

"Did you kill any Black Knights?"

"No General. We prioritized the Order personnel, and the Black Knights withdrew in the meantime."

"Very well." Magnus was actually quite relieved. He had been spared the risks inherent in ordering his men to fight the Black Knights. "You mentioned there was one other."  
"Yes General. Some of the Order's leaders tried to escape via an underground maglev, taking the prisoner with them. Chairwoman Eckart asks that you come at once to view the prisoner. She seemed to think you would find it…amusing."

"Lead on." Morpheus turned and headed off, Magnus following behind. The Fury made no sound, save the thumps of his footfalls. They strode through the ruined city, past the heaped debris and cratered streets. Every so often they came upon more of his men heaving bodybags. At one point they passed one of the fallen knightmares, tech personnel preparing it to be moved to the _Ikaruga_.

Morpheus led him down a wide, ornate tunnel cut in tbe wall of the vast cavern. The walls were pock-marked with bullet holes, mementoes of the Order's last desperate defence, buying time for their leaders to escape.

Magnus felt the air pressure change as they stepped out into another cavern, this one considerably smaller than the main cavern. The mag-lev track was the main feature, running through the cavern to the exit tunnel. Magnus had seen such facilities many times. Underground mag-levs just like it connected the main facilities of the EU's EUROSHIELD defence network, allowing personnel and materiel to be moved swiftly and stealthily, untroubled by events above ground. He was more than a little curious as to where the mag-lev led.

The train itself sat in its appointed place, ready to be launched down the tunnel. Or rather it had been, before the Furies had descended upon it. The main doors had been blasted and wrenched open, and Magnus could smell blood as they approached.

Two more Furies stood a few metres from the entrance, in front of what appeared to be another trussed prisoner.

"Nemesis and Hypnos, General," Morpheus introduced his brethren, or rather his sister and brother, for Magnus saw that one of them was somewhat smaller and slimmer than the other, though not by much.

"What did you find here?" Magnus asked. He knew the Furies did not go in for small talk or niceties.

"The motherlode, Magnus!" He looked up to see Dietlinde Eckart standing in the train's much-abused doorway, beaming in triumph. "Twelve security strongboxes! All of them big enough to contain portable datacores! Just wait till we get them open!"

"And this?" Magnus gestured at the prisoner.

"Oh, _her_!" Eckart's smile widened. "See for yourself." Nemesis and Hypnos stood aside, and Magnus could see the prisoner clearly. It was a young woman, elegant curves visible under the Order's white uniform. She was blindfolded and gagged like the other prisoners, long pink hair spilling over the ground behind her.

Magnus was not a completely emotionless being. Though the Quiescence had denied him the full range of human feeling, it had left him one or two sensations. The most important of them had been his aesthetic, the one thing that made him more than a robot. For all his coldness and logic, he could understand beauty.

And that young girl was beautiful, by any number of standards.

A notion came upon him. He dared not remove the blindfold or gag, but there was one other way he could test it.

He knelt down beside her, and set about unbuttoning her jacket. The Furies watched, silent and impassive, as he opened the jacket and set about the blouse underneath.

"Don't enjoy yourself too much Magnus!" Eckart quipped as he opened the blouse, revealing a plain white brassiere containing a busom of some considerable size, her skin milky-white.

Magnus felt nothing. Zero's Geass had denied him Quiessence, but he could still use Libidinax, chemically neutralizing his libido the way the former had neutralized his emotions. And the breasts were not what he was looking for.

He curled a finger over the top of the bra, pulling it down. At the top of her valley, just below her collarbone, was a spot of red scar tissue, about the size of a large coin.

"Euphemia li Britannia," Magnus hissed. "What are you doing here?"

* * *

_**Ikaruga**_

Lelouch slumped in his chair, mentally and physically exhausted.

They had gotten away. They had not fulfilled their entire mission, but they had made it away. Under the circumstances, it was the best he could have hoped for.

Losses had been considerable, though not as bad as Brussels. They had inflicted significant damage on the Geass Order, forcing them to reveal their secret weapons. They had even managed to secure the prototype of those weapons, along with what remained of the _Siegfried_. The technology alone made the mission worthwhile, to say nothing of the person they had found inside the prototype knightmare's cockpit.

But it was not a victory, not really. He could not convince the Black Knights that it was a victory, and he would not insult them by trying.

What mattered was that the Order was out of commission, permanently.

"Shouldn't you be somewhere?" Lelouch looked up, disturbed by the sudden question. CC was in her usual place, sprawled on the sofa with Cheese-kun in her arms, an open pizza box on the coffee table.

"What do you mean?"

"You saw how Kallen was," CC pointed out, eyeing him. "You could at least talk to her about it." Lelouch knew what she meant. He had seen the look in her eyes when they emerged from their knightmares on the _Ikaruga_'s flight deck. But neither of them had said anything. Neither of them could think of anything to say.

"So," he groused. "What I am supposed to do about it?"

"You two were lovers, and you ask me that?" CC gave him a disapproving look. "You really don't know how to love a woman, Lelouch."

"And what would you know about love?"

"I know all about love." There was something strange in her eyes, something he had seen before. "I have known excess of it. I have been loved until it lost all meaning. Love is the story of how I got my Geass."

_That_ got Lelouch's attention.

"I don't know exactly when I was born, or where" CC went on. "The first thing I remember for certain is wandering a sunken road, where I collapsed out of sheer hunger. A nun found me, or at least she claimed to be a nun, and nursed me back to health. She offered me a deal, that she would grant me a power I could use to survive, and that in return I would fulfil one wish of hers. Of course, I accepted."

"The Code-bearer," Lelouch breathed.

"Like all Geass, mine manifested in response to my deepest desire. My desire was that someone, anyone, would truly love me. That was all I wanted, but my power did not have such a limit. I could make anyone and everyone love me." She paused.

"I suppose it made me narcissistic," she went on wistfully. "But I enjoyed it too much to care. I was loved by princes and priests, by captains and cooks, by merchants and monks, by peasants and paupers. I was loved until I forgot what it was like not to be loved, until I no longer had anything to compare it to. Love without limit became love without meaning. The Sister was the only one I respected, the only one my power couldn't affect. She alone could be honest with me." CC paused, smiling at the memory.

"And then?"

"One day, she told me to put my affairs in order. She made me give back all the gifts and turn down all the proposals. I didn't much mind at the time. It was getting annoying." CC's smile vanished.

"She gave you the Code," Lelouch concluded, dry-mouthed. "She made you immortal."

"The one person I had ever completely trusted. The one person I had ever really loved. And she tricked me." CC paused again, and it seemed to Lelouch that she was looking into another place, perhaps into her deepest self.

"It was only afterwards that I realised," she went on. "It was only after I received the Code that I understood. I understood that my power had not been to make people love me. I could make them behave as if they loved me. I could force upon them a compulsion, an unanswerable need to behave as if they loved me. But not one of them ever really loved me."

"Then…"

"Geass is ultimately an illusion," CC explained, straightening up on the sofa. "It is something inside all of us, the part of us that denies reality, defies fate, and in so doing leads us to destruction. So it was with me, when I who was alone in the world wished so desperately to be loved. So it was with Rolo, when he longed to preserve his fleeting moments of happiness. So it was with Faramond, when he yearned to undo that for which he blamed himself. So it was with you, when you could no longer bear to not be in control."  
"And then what?" Lelouch asked, half-pitying, half bitter. "Will you force your Code on me, as it was forced on you? Will you flee this world after condemning me to take your place?"

"No, Lelouch." To his surprise, CC actually looked ashamed. "I deceived you because I could not believe you would accept if you knew the whole truth. But now that I know for certain that Charles wants my Code, I dare not pass it on. I would only be passing the problem to you, and you cannot deal with it half so well as I have done."

"What does he want your Code for?" Lelouch demanded. "What happens if two are combined?"

"I truly do not know. There may be others, but I have only ever known of two for certain. No doubt Charles thinks he knows what will happen, but don't ask me if he's right or not."

"Then I'm not further forward than I was before." Lelouch put his head in his hands.

"I told Kallen about your Geass," she said. "The only thing she really wanted to know, the only thing that mattered, was whether or not her feelings for you were because of it. I told her what I told you a moment ago." Silence.

"I can't go to her," Lelouch replied. "If I do, I'll love her. I'll love her, and need her, and think only of her. The person I am will be destroyed, and a new person will be born. I can't let that happen, not just yet."

"You may lose her."

"It's for her own sake. Those I love suffer because of it." The chiming of his desk intercom broke the mood. Lelouch checked that it was on voice-only, then hit the reply button.

"Yes?"

"Zero!" It was Minase. "Quickly, on the Chinese Federation news channel!" Mystified, Lelouch leapt up from his desk, grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table, and pointed it at the TV. The screen flicked on, revealing the Chinese Federation's official news network, a soberly-dressed anchorwoman presiding.

"We bring you now live to the official announcement by the Britannian peace delegation to Japan, transmitted from the Britannian floatship _Avalon_."The image changed. It was replaced by a full-body shot of a young girl, maybe fifteen years old, standing at a podium emblazoned with the lion and snake escutcheon of the House of Britannia. Her ash-blonde-running-to-brown hair cascaded down past her waist. Her slim body was encased in a figure-hugging pink gown. She stood straight, gripping the podium, her eyes closed.

"To the people of Japan, and all the peoples of the world. I, Nunnally vi Britannia, do make this announcement on behalf of my brother, Prince Schneizel, and of the Holy Empire of Britannia."

CC glanced at Lelouch. He was frozen in place, eyes bulging, mouth gaping, all colour gone from his face.

"Nunnally…" he muttered. "Nunnally…you're…"

* * *

_**Pendragon, Holy Empire of Britannia**_

There were four of them.

Four of them, three female and one male, tiny shapes in the vast undercroft of the Imperial palace. How miniscule they seemed, when compared to the vast pillars that held up the roof of the undercroft. How small, and insignificant, compared to the cyclopean vision they inhabited.

But they were not just any four people.

As Charles emerged from the light, the four knelt in supplication. Though he made no show of it, he felt a twinge of satisfaction at the sight of them.

"What news, my Emperor?" asked the man, their leader. His face was oblong, looking as if it were cut from stone, with greying hair and the left eye sewn shut. His body was lean and powerful, encased in the black shirt, and white coat that was the Round Table's uniform. His cloak was white.

"I have done it, Lord Waldstein," Charles replied, halting in front of the four. "My brother has paid the price for his treachery. Marianne is avenged."

"I am glad, my Emperor." His voice was low, grinding like gravel. "Forgive me, that I could not cleanse the stain on the Round Table's honour myself."

"What must be must be, Lord Waldstein." Charles scanned his eyes over the three women who had accompanied Bismarck Waldstein, the First Knight. All of them were Knights of the Round Table, the ones apart from Bismarck he could completely trust.

Nonette Enneagram, the Ninth Knight, whose cloak was purple.

Dorothea Ernst, the Fifth Knight, whose cloak was red.

Monica Kruszewski, the Twelfth Knight, whose cloak was green.

"I trust you have completed your observances?" he asked.

"We have, my Emperor," replied the grey-haired Nonette, whose eyes were as sharp as her tongue. "We have completed our lamentations, and have borne our brother-Knight's body safe home, to rest among his ancestors."

"His loss was…unfortunate," Charles commented. "Matters have reached a head, and it seems only you four can be trusted."

"Weinberg is a fop, too much under Prince Schneizel's influence," dark-skinned Dorothea Ernst growled. "And Bradley is a common murderer. They are no loss."

"I recall you opposed Lord Bradley's accession," Charles commented. "Perhaps you were right. But there is still Lady Earlstreim."

"Her loyalties are unclear, my Emperor," Dorothea replied.

"I concur," Nonette cut in. "Even I don't know what she's thinking half the time."

Charles laid his eyes on Monica, who did not speak. She was the gentlest of them, he knew, and the most modest. She would not speak without reason, and it seemed that there was nothing to be said.

"The time has come," he said, to all of them. "We must make our preparations for the final stage of the plan. I will need your strength, and your trust, when the time comes. Will you follow me, this one last time?"

"We are your Knights, my Emperor," Monica said, speaking for the first time.

"We owe you too much to refuse," Nonette added gravely.

"We cannot do otherwise," Dorothea agreed.

"I never had cause to doubt you," Charles replied, then turned his eyes to Bismarck. His First Knight, and perhaps his only true friend, returned his gaze with one good eye.

"My will is thy will," he said, in the words of an old oath. "Thy will and thine alone."

* * *

**(I can only apologize for the delay, which was considerably worse than usual. This one's been a real pain, especially with regard to what to do about CC. The question came down to whether to bother with C-Chii or not. I decided against, on the basis that it seemed like a fanservice excuse not to reveal more information. Also, I decided to bulk up the Order because it seemed a bit strange that they would be so completely undefended. **

**I also threw in the flashback of Marianne's death now, because it made sense for it to happen at that point. I altered it because the scenario described in R2 made no sense at all. To make it look right, they would have had to shoot Nunnally through the legs in exactly the right places for her wounds to match those of her mother. Even if they did, the time delay between Marianne's actual death and the scene that was concocted would cause all manner of problems. I reckoned it was a simpler and easier scenario for VV to lure Marianne into a trap, with Nunnally's presence being a quirk of fate. I have heard that the R2 version was acknowledged as a plot hole. **

**And yes, Nunnally is on her feet. More about that next chapter, which should come a bit quicker now that I've got past that particular sticking point. And yes, I went and spared Euphemia. I based that on an idea I was playing with, in which VV fakes Euphemia's death in order to manipulate Suzaku. I've got something very special in mind for her). **


End file.
